


I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be)

by TheMeaningofHaste



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Eventual Happy Ending, Gay Panic (ish), John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Masturbation, Mechanic Dean, PTSD, Phone Sex, Team Everyone Switches, being in the closet, gay cas, teacher cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 80,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: Mechanic by day and bartender by night, all Dean Winchester wants is to get his little brother through his last year at the nicest private school around. The last thing he was looking for was love and he definitely never expected to find it with his brother's male English teacher, Castiel Novak.Over a semester Dean is forced to come to terms with his sexuality and overcome the need to protect his little brother's reputation. Sometimes love is found where it wasn't supposed to be.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 63
Kudos: 268
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Late August

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and thanks to my best bud and beta AuthorOutOfTime. Without you none of this would be possible.

“Shit, fucking shit,” Dean muttered, the words repeating in a mantra as he slammed the Impala’s door shut and began jogging across the parking lot. He was so late, Sam was going to kill him. No, Sam was going to do worse, he was going to give Dean those big ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ doe eyes. Double shit. 

“Um, can I help you sir?” A woman asked, looking up warily at him from her table at the front entrance as Dean skidded to a stop in front of her. 

Nodding, Dean held his ribs and tried to catch his breath. “I need to find this room,” he panted, pulling the copy of Sam’s schedule out of his pocket. If his brother didn’t kill him for missing the first thirty minutes of Parent Teacher Night he really needed to start running again. At 24, he was not old enough to be this out of shape.

With a kind, if slightly pitying, smile, the woman passed him a map and pointed down the hallway. “You’ve missed the first period but Mr. Novak’s room is just down this hallway, fifth door on the right, past the water fountains.”

Dean flashed her a grateful smile before dashing down the hall in the direction she had pointed. It felt like years before he found room 317. In his hurry, Dean threw open the door, wincing as it slammed against the wall. Twenty-odd heads snapped around to look at him. 

Dean gave what he hoped was his most charming smile as he gave a small wave. “Sorry, sorry, don’t let me interrupt you, teach. Carry on.”

The man at the front of the classroom gave a small nod, head tilting slightly as he watched Dean awkwardly make his way to the only empty desk left.  _ Of course _ it was in the exact middle of the room. The teacher cleared his throat before continuing to address the room of parents. “Yes, as I was saying, the AP exams will be taking place in the spring-.”

Dean tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying, he really did, but he was too focused on trying to calm the uncomfortable feeling churning in his gut. He hadn’t been in a class room in five years and even then, it’s not like those had been his best moments. And now, well fuck, Dean was not old enough to be sitting in a room of parents. Parents of high school  _ seniors _ . He fought back the urge to shudder at the thought. 

To make things worse, Dean was acutely aware of how different he was from the parents sitting around him. Benbrook Preparatory Academy was an old, prestigious, and  _ expensive  _ private school just outside Lawrence. They accepted a few students each year on scholarship which allowed Sam to attend. However, it meant that Dean was in a vastly different class than the rest of the room. He hadn’t even had time to change out of his work clothes, still wearing torn jeans and a button up short sleeve shirt with his name stitched above the pocket. He would have taken the over shirt off, but the ratty AC/DC t-shirt he wore underneath didn’t look much better. His only saving grace was the fact that his coveralls kept most of the grease stains from his jeans. Not like it would matter either way, the woman next to him was wearing a pant suit that would have made Hillary Clinton proud. 

Desperate for a distraction, Dean studied the man at the front of the room. He was dressed in a blue cashmere sweater layered over a white oxford shirt and paired with dark grey slacks and  _ damn _ it was a good look. The man had dark hair that looked like he had spent all afternoon running his hand through it. Dean found his own fingers itching to comb through it, equal parts wanting to smooth it down and to mess it up further. If this was how he looked at work, Dean could only imagine how he looked after he had been well and truly fucked. Dean started a little at the intrusive thought. Where had  _ that _ come from?

“If you have any further questions, please feel free to come ask,” the instructor said, interrupting Dean’s thoughts. “I look forward to getting to know each of your children throughout the year.”

Parents slowly got up from their desks, many of them greeting each other. At a school like Benbrook, they probably all knew each other and had frequent gatherings of pretentious rich people, Dean thought with a huff. He pointedly ignored the few glances that were cast in his direction as he got up and made his way over to the table set up in the front of the room with a carafe of coffee. 

Dean grabbed a paper cup and filled it to the brim, biting back a groan at the heavenly smell. If there was one thing that rich people apparently knew, it was quality coffee.

“At least you can always count on these things to have decent coffee,” a gruff voice said next to him, startling Dean from his thoughts. He turned to see the instructor next to him, reaching across Dean for his own cup. 

Dean cleared his throat, suddenly nervous being one on one with the other man. “Yeah, it’s a perk of fancy private schools I guess.”

The man turned to look at him, leaning a hip against the table as he studied Dean over the rim of his cup. “No offense, but you don’t look old enough to have a child in one of my classes.”

Snorting a laugh, Dean choked on his coffee at the thought. “Hell no,” he exclaimed, hitting his fist against his chest as he coughed. “My kid brother is in your class, Sam Winchester. I’m his guardian.”

The teacher gave a small nod of understanding before offering his hand to Dean. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Winchester, you’re brother is very bright.”

“God, don’t call me that. Mr. Winchester makes me feel ancient. I’m Dean.” Dean took the outstretched hand. He couldn’t help noticing how long and almost delicate the other man's fingers were as they wrapped around his own calloused skin. “And yeah, Sammy is the genius of the family. I’m sorry man, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Castiel Novak.”

“That’s quite the name Mr. Novak,” Dean said with a teasing grin.

“Please, call me Castiel,” the other man insisted, his eyes crinkling in a small smile of his own. Up close, Dean found himself getting distracted by the intensity of Castiel’s gaze. His eyes were the brightest blue Dean had ever seen and he found himself wanting to draw closer until he could distinguish each individual hue of blue. 

Dean nodded, breaking eye contact and looking resolutely into the safety of his coffee cup. “Hey, I’m sorry about barging in here late. I got off from work late and it was a bitch trying to get out here at the tail end of rush hour. So, yeah.”

Castiel shook his head minutely. “It’s fine Dean, there’s no need to apologize for that.”

Nervously, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks man. Well I should-”

“Where do you work?” Castiel interrupted, looking genuinely interested as he watched Dean with that damn too intense gaze.

“Oh, uh, I’m a mechanic down at Singer’s Auto Shop and Salvage Yard. It’s not much but it pays the bills and he’s been like a dad to Sammy and me.” Dean shrugged, feeling defensive once again about being the only blue collar worker in a building full of people who would probably never willingly speak to him unless they needed their car fixed. 

“Don’t sell yourself short Dean, that’s an incredibly skilled profession,” Castiel insisted. Dean’s head snapped up as he watched the other man with disbelief. “My oldest brother, Michael, tried to teach me about cars before I turned 16 but I never really caught on.”

Dean found himself grinning at the mental image of a young Castiel bent over the hood of a car, grease smeared on his skin as he scowled at the interior. “Yeah it’s not for everyone, I’ve been trying to show Sam the basics so he can take care of his own ride if he ever gets one. So what were you good at?”

“Oh, I can assure you I’m quite  _ skilled _ at many things,” Castiel replied, his voice like silk over gravel as he quirked a brow. Thrown off by the suggestive undertone that was making him squirm more than it had any right to, Dean took a large gulp of his coffee. Thankfully, Castiel saved him from having to respond, his voice softer as he revealed personal information. “It may seem a bit obvious but I guess books are my forte. My home was a bit, uh, chaotic growing up, so I often snuck off to the library or holed up in the attic with a book where they couldn’t find me.”

Dean nodded, absentmindedly taking a small step towards the other man. “I was the same with cars. When dad was- well, whenever I was stressed, I would go out and tune up my baby.” 

Castiel’s brow quirked once again, his head tilting to the side with a small smile. “Your baby?”

With a small laugh, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, she’s a 1967 Chevy Impala, passed down from my dad. I’ve been working on her since long before I could drive her.”

“I’m sure it’s quite the ride,” Cas hummed, twirling the stirrer in his coffee. 

Dean was about to offer to take Cas outside and show him when a loud bell rang through the halls. “God, I’m about to start having flashbacks to being late to class and getting detention.”

Cas chuckled, the low sound sending shivers down his spine. “If you’re anything like Sam, I can’t imagine that you were ever late a day in your life.” Dean was about to insist that he had been quite the delinquent at school when Cas continued. “Though, I’m afraid you’re creating a bit of a pattern tonight. That was the bell for the next period to begin. My third period is my planning session so I have a bit of free time but I expect you have somewhere you are supposed to be.”

“Shit!” Dean cursed, slamming back the last sip of his coffee. “Sam is going to murder me for this. Look, it was really nice to meet you but-.”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

Dean’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Of course I don’t.”

Delicate fingers plucked the copy of Sam’s schedule from Dean’s grasp as Castiel looked to see where he was supposed to be. “Luckily, you aren’t far.” 

Leaning close, Castiel pointed to the room number as he spoke. Dean did his best to focus and listen to the directions he was given but it was hard to concentrate when the other man was invading all of his senses like that. “Yeah, uh, thanks man.”

Bright blue eyes crinkled in the corners as a small smile pulled at Castiel’s lips. “Any time, it was a pleasure to meet you Dean. I hope to see you at another school event soon.”

Backing towards the door, Dean swallowed drily and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, me too, I- bye.” With a small wave he was out the door and hurrying down the hall in the direction of Sam’s next class. Bobby was right, he really was an idjit. 


	2. Early September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this wasn't up yesterday. Life got crazy and I had to go see Jonathan Van Ness be amazing. I hope it's worth the wait!

The late summer sun was warm on Dean’s skin as he relaxed back into the folding chair. He was wearing an old Batman tee that he had cut the sleeves off of and a pair of torn jeans, squeezing a few more wears out of his usual summer fare before fall hit.The school was holding a car wash fundraiser for a handful of clubs, including student government, so far be it for Dean to not come support his brother. And besides, if he got to torment the kid, that was just a bonus.

“Hey Sammy, you missed a spot!” He called, watching with a smirk as his brother glared back at him. 

“No I didn’t,” Sam groused back as he ran a soapy sponge across the windshield of the Impala for the hundredth time.

“Sure you did, just there to the left. No, your other left.” Dean huffed a laugh, this was the best 5 bucks he’d spent in a long time. “Come on Sammy, it’s up a few inches!”

With a low growl, Sam turned, spraying the hose at Dean. Before he could leap out of the chair, the cold water caught him in the chest, soaking his shirt. “Fuck!” 

Sam leaned back against the car, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Sorry Dean, guess my finger slipped.”

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” Dean asked, cracking his knuckles. 

“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be.”

With a yell, Dean lunged forward and grabbed the soapy sponge from the hood of the Impala. Suds flew into the air as he smashed it against his brother’s mop of hair. Sam was quick to dash away, running around to the trunk and holding the nozzle of the hose like a gun. They chased each other around the car, laughing and yelling like children. 

Around them, students and families turned to smile at their antics. Dean came around to the front of the car and dunked his sponge back into the bucket to reload as Sam squatted low on the other side of the car. “Come on Sam, you can’t hide forever.”

“I don’t need to, I’m winning!” Sam called back, aiming the hose blindly over the hood.

Laughing, Dean easily stepped away from the spray. When he turned to look for a spare sponge, dual wielding would be awesome, he froze. Smiling at him two car lengths away was Castiel fucking Novak. He was dressed in a pair of black board shorts and a faded green Dartmouth shirt. Sweat and water made the fabric stick to him like a second skin as he put down the hose and walked over and Dean had to bite back a groan. If there was a God, he had a sick sense of humor Dean thought as the other man raised a hand to wave.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel greeted once he got close, and god that voice sent shivers down Dean’s spine despite the hot temperatures. “This must be the infamous Baby.”

“Gotcha!” Sam cried triumphantly before Dean could answer, leaping around the side of a car to take advantage of Dean’s distraction to completely soak him with the hose. 

Dean turned to glower at his little brother, putting on his best ‘you will pay for this’ face. “Just remember who feeds you bitch.”

Sam flashed a bright smile. “Whatever, you’re all talk jerk.” He froze when he turned and saw his teacher standing next to Dean, also completely drenched. “Oh shit.”

“Hello Sam,” Castiel said with a smile.

Sam seemed to shrink before their eyes like he thought maybe he could just disappear to avoid the situation; an impressive feat since he had soared over the 6 foot mark over the summer. “I am so, so sorry Mr. Novak. I didn’t see you there, I never would have if you-”

Castiel raised a hand to silence his nervous rambling. “Please, don’t worry about it. I volunteered for a car wash, I expected to get a little wet.”

“Probably not completely drenched though,” Dean muttered, delighting at the glare his brother shot him. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing that a towel and a little sun cannot fix.”

“Still, I am so sorry.” Sam insisted.

“Shouldn’t you be washing my baby?” Dean interrupted, finally taking pity on Sam and offering him an easy out. “If soap dries into the paint I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, I’ll just,” Sam gestured over his shoulder to the car as he backed away. “See you Monday Mr. Novak.”

“Just leave the hose at home,” Castiel gently teased. Both men watched with matching grins as Sam flushed even deeper red. 

Throwing his head back, Dean clapped a hand to his chest as he laughed. “Oh man, that’s more fun than I’ve had in a long time. Definitely the best money I’ve ever spent.”

Castiel’s easy grin faded into a fond, almost familiar smile, as he watched Dean. The other man looked like a drowned rat, his dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his clothes stuck to every edge and curve of his body. In the bright sunlight, his eyes were almost criminally blue and Dean found himself grateful for his sunglasses. He couldn’t help but stare. 

“I think there’s a spare pile of towels laid out by the gym if you’d like to join me.”

Dean nodded, swallowing drily and trying to ignore the way his heart was trying to pound out of his chest. “Yeah, that’s uh, probably a good call. Can’t exactly sit on leather with wet clothes.”

Those blue eyes slowly raked across Dean’s frame, taking in every inch of wet denim and clinging cotton. Dean bit the inside of his cheek as he fought the urge to shiver under the intensity of his gaze. Slowly, Castiel stepped closer and Dean would swear he forgot how to breathe for a second. 

“Follow me,” Castiel said, his voice an octave lower as he brushed past Dean, letting their shoulders bump. 

“Right,” Dean muttered to himself, clearing his throat. “Towels.”

Castiel shot back a small smile before turning to walk back in the direction of the school. Taking a deep breath, Dean followed him, pointedly refusing to watch the way the other man’s hips swayed slightly as he walked. He definitely wouldn’t admire the way polyester hugged the curve of his ass either. He wasn’t into guys for fucks sake. 

Castiel led them away from the crowds of the carwash and around the corner of the main building. He held open the double doors to the gym, waving a hand as Dean walked by. Someone had obviously expected a big group of drenched teenagers and left out a large stack of towels and an empty laundry hamper in the middle of the basketball court. Dean stared at the pile distractedly, his mind racing as he tried to think back to every conversation he’d had with Castiel and whether or not he had made any sort of indication that he might be interested. 

“I can hear you thinking Dean.”

Dean jumped minutely, startled from his thoughts, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Castiel passed him a towel and once again the other man was standing just this side of too close. Their fingers brushed as Dean accepted the towel and soft grazing of Castiel’s fingers against his was too much but also not enough, his fingers felt electrified. Frowning, Dean rubbed the terry cloth roughly over his hair. He needed to get it together and stop crushing on his brother’s damn English teacher. 

“Sorry, just uh, got a bit distracted I guess. What are you doing at this shindig anyways?”

“I sponsor the writing club at school,” Castiel explained, his long fingers picking at a stray thread on his towel. “We’re a small group so we often piggyback onto other fundraising events.”

Unable to tear his gaze away from the way Castiel’s delicate fingers ran across the rough fabric, Dean nodded absentmindedly. “They keep you pretty busy here huh?”

“You could say that.” Castiel shot him a knowing look before turning to strip off his wet shirt. A small whine got caught in Dean’s throat at the sudden rush of stimuli. Castiel was all pale skin and a light sprinkling of dark hair spread across a lean runner’s frame. The weight of water made his pants sag, showing the dark shadow of the top of his hip bones. 

Dean felt his stomach clench at the sight and fought down his desire to reach out and touch. To see if those planes of muscle were as firm as they looked. 

“Something on your mind?” Castiel asked, his blue eyes glittering mischievously. 

Dean couldn’t help but follow a bead of water as it rolled down his chest and abs. Licking his lips, he raked his eyes back up until green eyes met blue. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

Quirking a brow, Castiel looked pleased with himself as he wrapped the towel around his shoulders. “I’m not sure I’m inclined to believe you Mr. Winchester.”

His chest ached at the way his name sounded in Castiel’s gruff baritone, a spark of arousal shooting through him. “I should probably get back to Sammy,” he mumbled, looking pointedly over Castiel’s left shoulder. If he wanted to walk back out into a crowd of teenagers with his dignity intact, he had to stop thinking about what it would be like to chase that bead of water from Cas’ skin with his tongue.

“It was nice seeing you Dean.”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as he took a step back towards the doors. “Yeah you too Cas- I mean, Mr. Novak. Yep, Mr. Novak, cause you’re Sammy’s teacher.”

“You’re rambling again Dean.” Castiel was grinning as he watched Dean squirm. 

“No I’m not- shut up,” Dean groused, taking another step backwards. “I’ll see you around Cas.”

Forgetting about the borrowed towel around his shoulders, Dean fled through the doors and back into the oppressive afternoon heat. He was lost in thought as he made his way back towards the sound of laughter and shouting, not paying a lick of attention to his surroundings as he went. His mind was racing, he needed to get out of there, away from the crowds and  _ Cas _ . 

“Hey, good timing,” Sam called as Dean approached. “I just finished her up.”

Too distracted to check and make sure his brother hadn’t missed any spots, Dean reached for his proffered car keys. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” Sam asked, ducking down to study his brother’s face. “Where’s Mr. Novak?”

“I don’t know man,” Dean barked. “I’m not his damn keeper.”

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Never said you were. Are you okay Dean?”

Sighing, Dean reached into his pocket to pull out a couple of wet bills. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a headache from the heat or something.”

“It’s only five bucks,” his brother said, looking back between Dean and the bills in his hand. 

“Keep the change,” Dean said with a shrug, he just needed to get in his car and drive. “You have a ride home right?”

“Yeah, Jess’s parents are going to drop me off.” Sam didn’t look like he believed a word of Dean’s bullshit but Dean didn’t care. He could deal with his brother later. 

Tossing the damp towel across the driver’s seat, Dean slid in with a frown. He would have to detail the leather when he got home to prevent any water damage. “Call me if you need anything kid,” he called through the open window.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam stepped away to let Dean drive off. “Whatever jerk.”

The Impala roared to life around him as Dean turned the ignition, the soft rumble already starting to soothe is nerves. “Bye bitch!”

As he pulled out of his parking spot and onto the front drive of the school, Dean glanced out his passenger side window. From the side of the building, Castiel was watching him. He had pulled his shirt back on and his hair was adorably rumpled from the towel. On impulse, Dean raised his hand in a small wave before turning towards the main road.

If Dean had looked in his rearview mirror before pulling out into the street, he would have seen Castiel return the wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. As usual I'm a hoe for kudos and comments. You can also find me on tumblr as ScienceofSociopaths.


	3. Late September

“So many times, it happens too fast, you trade your passion for glory. Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them alive.” Dean crooned along to the radio as he laid back along the Impala’s bench front seat, hitting an imaginary drum set and bobbing his head in time to the music.

“It’s the eye, of the tiger! It’s the-oh fuck!” Dean jumped at the sound of someone knocking on his window. He shot up into a seated position, his cheeks flushing when he saw Castiel grinning at him. Taking a breath, Dean cranked the window down. “Give me a damn heart attack why don’t you,” he groused. 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel chuckled, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag on his shoulder. He was wearing a long, tan trench coat over his suit and looked adorably rumpled from the day. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt the show but I felt a little creepy just loitering. Speaking of loitering, what brings you to this fine parking lot on a Thursday night?”

“I’m picking Sammy up from his debate club meeting,” he replied, relaxing a little. Talking about how great his brother is was a comfortable area for him and helped aid the heat he felt in his gut whenever Castiel was around. “Kid is way too involved for his own good.” 

“You’re very proud of him aren’t you.”

Dean scoffed. “Hell yeah, he’s the genius of the family. He’s going to actually make something of himself.” The intensity of the look Castiel gave him in response, as though he didn’t approve of Dean speaking ill of himself, made his stomach churn uncomfortably and Dean cleared his throat. “Though, not that the kid needs any help learning how to argue. He’s as stubborn as a moose. What about you, what are you doing here so late?”

By the way Castiel looked at him, it was obvious that he knew Dean was just trying to change the subject but thankfully, he went along with it. “We have a department staff meeting once a month, I normally walk out with the others but I forgot some papers in my office and well, I got a bit distracted.” Dean hummed in response, glancing around for the first time and noticing how empty the parking lot was. “This really is quite the car.”

With a grin, Dean proudly stroked a hand over his baby’s dashboard. “Damn straight she is. You didn’t get a good look at her last month at the car wash. The door’s open, come check her out.”

Raising his brow, Castiel made his way around to the other side of his car. Dean could just make out the way the edge of his lips curled as he slid across the bench seat. Turning to face the other man, Dean crossed his leg up on the seat and slung his arm across the back. He instantly cursed the Impala’s bench seats as Castiel turned to mirror him. The soft material of Castiel’s slacks brushed against Dean’s worn jeans as their knees bumped. They were close, way too fucking close. Hadn’t it been cool outside too? Why did it feel like his leg was on fire at that one point of contact. 

“Tell me about her,” Castiel murmured, his voice dropping at the close proximity. 

Swallowing drily, Dean tried to focus on his car. “She used to be my dad’s, he bought her used once he was discharged from the Marines. He was supposed to go buy a minivan, a nice family car, but when he saw her at the lot he couldn’t resist. Mom just about skinned his hide for that.” He chuckled, thinking back fondly to how his dad used to light up when he told that story. “They were engaged and she wanted kids and well, not a great spot to strap a carseat in here.

“I think I told you before, but I started learning how to work on her once I was big enough to hold a wrench. After mom died, that was the closest thing I got to quality time with Dad.”

Castiel nodded as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Dean’s with his trademark intensity. “How old were you when she died?”

“I was 4, almost 5.” Dean picked at the frayed edge of a hole in his jeans, his eyes fixed at the point where their knees touched. He couldn’t stand to see the pity that he would see in Castiel’s gaze, he hated the way people looked at him once they knew. Poor little orphan Dean, it would just be that much worse coming from Castiel. “Sam was just a baby at the time so he doesn’t remember the fire. They said it was an electrical problem, some sort of faulty wiring that caused the fire. All I know is the house was full of thick, black smoke and then I just remember my dad thrust Sammy into my arms and ordered me to take him outside. Dad tried to get mom out but he was too late. After that he, well, Dad was never the same after. He died when I was barely 18, drunk driving accident.”

Warm fingers wrapped around Dean’s hand, startling him. When he looked up, it wasn’t the usual pity that Dean saw in Castiel’s eyes. Instead those blue eyes watched him with something closer to empathy and understanding. “My own Mother died when I was young; cancer. I know it’s not the same but I get it. My father was distraught and distant after, he buried himself in his work. My oldest brother Michael was barely twenty but took charge and helped raise us.”

Dean felt a lump form in his throat and he could feel his eyes start to prickle. No, dammit he wasn’t going to cry in front of his brothers teacher, because that’s what Castiel was dammit. He hadn’t cried since Dad’s funeral and he wasn’t going to start now. “Well aren’t we a bunch of sad sacks.”

Castiel huffed a laugh, his thumb brushing across the back of Dean’s wrist. “Something like that. So, I know that you work and care for your brother, I can’t imagine that leaves you much free time.”

“You’re looking at my free time right here buddy,” Dean replied with a snort. “Hanging out in cars with my brother’s teacher is about as social as I get outside of work most of the time.”

“Not much of a hobby guy?”

Dean shrugged, blindly looking out into the parking lot to keep from getting lost in Castiel’s eyes like a damn girl. “Never really had time for it. Does working on Baby count?”

“Sure, though I was thinking of something a little less like work and more like reading or woodworking.”

“I’m alright with a saw but can’t say I would call it fun. I guess I read some, usually on those rare evenings where I’m not at work and Sam is working on homework and I don’t want to do anything loud and distracting.”

Castiel gave him a soft grin, readjusting so that their legs were completely in contact, pressed together from knee to shin. “See, that counts Dean. The English teacher in me can’t help asking what you like to read.”

Letting his own thumb drift across Castiel’s knuckles, Dean rolled his eyes fondly. “Like I said, Sam is the genius of the family. It’s nothing that would be up to your standard teach.”

Arching a brow, Castiel tilted his head to the side as he studied Dean. “Try me.”

With a sigh, Dean leaned closer, his voice dropping. “I don’t know, lately I’ve been on a Vonnegut kick. Oh, you know what, I used to love H.P. Lovecraft when I was still in school. My English teacher in 11th grade introduced me to him and I was pretty checked out of school at the time but that? That got me hooked, I haven’t read any in years. It’s a shame, I loved that creepy bastard.”

“Yes that was all very embarrassing Dean, I can see why you would think that wasn’t up to my standards,” Castiel deadpanned, inching closer. 

Dean tried to think of a clever retort but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the soft curve of Castiel’s lips. They were pale pink and lightly chapped and Dean was nearly overcome with the urge to see if they felt as plush as they looked. Castiel’s tongue darted out, swiping across his bottom lip. Dean barely heard the groan that caught in his throat at the sight, too focused on the man across from him. Castiel’s gaze darted between Dean’s own cupids bow and his eyes; he looked just as lost as Dean felt.

Dean completely forgot that he was sitting in his car in the parking lot of his brother’s school, where anyone could see. All he could see was Castiel and, for just a moment, nothing else mattered. He couldn’t resist leaning closer and just when he thought the magnetic force of the other man was going to pull him in to close the remaining distance between them, a loud chime echoed through the car. 

Dean jumped as the moment shattered around them. It wasn’t until he felt the heavy buzzing against his thigh that he realized the noise was coming from his phone. “Shit,” he breathed, fumbling for his pocket. 

_ Sam [7:42 pm]: Sorry I’m late, headed out now! _

_ Sam [7:43 pm] Be there in a minute :)  _

“Shit, it’s Sam, I-” Dean breathed, his heart racing with panic as he considered his brother catching him in a compromising position with his English teacher. He knew he was panicking but he didn’t know how to stop. “I can’t- he’s your- I’m not-.”

Castiel nodded, giving Dean’s hand a final squeeze. “I get it Dean, it’s okay.”

As Castiel moved away, Dean felt another wave of panic at the sudden loss of heat. “No wait- shit.” Dean raked a hand through his hair as he tried to come up with something to make this all okay.

“It’s okay Dean, another time,” Castiel reiterated, his words sounding like a promise as he leaned back across the seat towards Dean. He raised his fingers to traced gently along the line of Dean’s jaw. No sooner than Dean leaned into the touch, it was gone as Castiel slid across the bench seat towards the door. 

“See you around Dean.” With a wave, Castiel straightened and shut the door behind him. Despite Castiel’s words, the bang of the door slamming shut felt final as Dean slumped down and let his head fall against the seat back, watching the other man walk away. 

His mind was racing, the echo of his father’s voice chasing out his own thoughts. He could hear it like it was yesterday, his father sneer at two men kissing on tv. His dad yelling that he didn’t raise a homo, that any son of his had to be a real man and date women. Dean’s chest felt impossibly tight as he fought for air- was this what a heart attack felt like?

“Sorry, sorry, I know I’m like twenty minutes late but we just go so caught up- dude are you okay? You look as white as a sheet.” Sam started as he slid into the car, turning to study Dean. 

Dean shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He couldn’t do this in front of Sam dammit, this was everything he had been trying to avoid. “Nah, it’s fine, just a long day.”

Sam frowned at him and looked like he wanted to follow up with more questions. Thankfully, Sam seemed to realize that more questions wouldn’t be welcome so he settled into telling Dean all about his day and what one of the guys had tried to argue in his practice debate. Dean threw the Impala into reverse, pulling out of the parking space. He felt bad for only half listening to what Sam was saying but he couldn’t focus. He just needed to get home and grab a beer, he’d be fine. Yeah, he just needed some space away from Castiel and he’d be fine. If he kept saying it, maybe he could start to believe it. 

As they pulled out of the parking lot though, Dean couldn’t help but remember the way Castiel had touched his jaw. Despite his panic, he was struck, not for the first time, by the fact that his kid brother was a six foot tall cock block. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an exceptionally shitty week so any comments or kudos would be so welcome. 
> 
> Also, I'm in need of a new beta reader. If anyone is interested you can comment here or message me on tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths.
> 
> <3


	4. Beginning of October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive shout out to my new and beautiful beta Arianllyn. She's done wonders to improve my deplorable grammar so send your thanks her way. Also go check out what she's written as well!

The courtyard was buzzing with energy as students flitted from one table to another, looking for something sweet to finish their lunch with. Doing his best to carefully restock the cupcakes, Dean tried not to focus on much work he was missing to be there. He just had to make it another 45 minutes and then he could get back to the safety of the garage. 

“I have to admit, I never expected to see you here.”

Dean jumped at the rough voice that had been haunting his dreams for the past two weeks, almost dropping the cupcake he was holding. Taking a deep breath, he gently placed the offending pastry in its spot and tried to calm his pounding heart. It was just Castiel, no reason to lose his damn mind.

“Yeah, can’t say bake sales are really my area,” he replied, wiping frosting nervously onto his jeans as he turned. “I started getting vaguely threatening letters from the headmaster though, some crap about ‘all guardians being expected to take time to volunteer at school functions.’ Turns out the fruity bake sale was the only thing that fit my schedule. Besides, it’s not like I could ever be a chaperone.”

Castiel tilted his head his head to the side in consideration, eyes crinkling in amusement as Dean turned to nervously rearrange a stack of brownies. “I don’t know about that. Given the way you’ve raised Sam, I think you’d make an admirable role model for the students.”

Dean rubbed his neck, trying not to focus on the way that the periwinkle sweater Castiel wore only made his already ridiculously blue eyes stand out against pale skin and dark tousled hair. “Nah, I’m barely holding my end of the bargain here. If I mess up the frosting on one more cupcake, Sharon is going to start charging me.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Castiel's lips. “Do you think that they could spare you for a few minutes?”

“Um, probably,” Dean started, glancing at the trio of nearly identical blonde women who were watching him and giggling to each other. “Yeah, make that definitely.”

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his khakis, Castiel turned and started walking across the courtyard. And really, who gave him permission to make fucking  _ khakis _ look like that?

“I’ll uh,” Dean started, pointing after Cas to the ladies at his booth. They giggled in unison, the one in the middle wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Yeah.”

Zig zagging through students on their lunch break, Dean hurried to catch up with the teacher. He kept an eye out for Sammy as he went, the big brother in him always equally looking for any chance to embarrass his kid brother and hoping that his brother wouldn’t see them together. The further from the quad that Castiel led him, the emptier the halls got until it felt like they were the only two left in the school. 

Castiel paused in front of an oak door, pulling a key from his pocket. A soft click echoed through the empty halls as he held the door open. “After you Dean.”

Dean nodded, brushing past the other man, the back of his hand rubbing against the soft material of his sweater. He gingerly touched the back of his hand as he turned to look at Castiel’s office. The farthest wall was full of windows, the blinds half drawn. In front of them was a huge, chestnut desk, cluttered with books and papers. The left and right walls were floor to ceiling bookcases, stuffed to the brim. A maroon, overstuffed armchair was pushed into the corner, finishing off the cozy feel of the room.

“You went to Dartmouth?” Dean asked as he inspected the array of framed degrees on the wall. 

Castiel hummed and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, I did my undergraduate degree in Literary Studies with a minor in Religion then finished up with a double Masters in Education and Comparative Literature.”

“And here I was proud of my G.E.D.,” Dean grumbled, suddenly self conscious. He was damn proud of the fact that he had dropped out to take care of Sam but sometimes, confronted with someone educated like Cas, he felt lesser. 

Castiel stepped around to the side to look at him, his head tilted to the side and brows furrowed in that way that was uniquely Castiel, as he studied Dean. “I think that you should be.”

Biting his lip, Dean turned away to look over the closest bookshelf. He couldn’t handle this conversation right now, not here. 

“Aren’t we hooked on phonics,” Dean muttered, running his finger along the spines of a shelf of books. 

Dean could almost hear the other man roll his eyes as he picked up a leather bound book from his desk. “Here, I thought you might be interested in this after our talk the other night.” 

“You giving me homework, teach?” 

Castiel leaned back against the edge of his desk, crossed his legs, and raised a brow. “Would you do it if I did?”

Dean bit back a groan, a dozen innuendos coming to mind. Instead, he looked over the book in his hands, taking in the dark green leather and the gold leaf accents. “A Collection of H.P Lovecraft Stories,” he breathed, grinning as he traced his finger over the gold leaf letters. 

“You said that they were your favorite before you left school,” Castiel replied, voice low like silk over gravel. 

When Dean looked up, the other man was standing right in front of him because, apparently, personal space meant nothing to Castiel. Dean could feel every nervous huff of breath Castiel exhaled against his cheek. “Thank you,” Dean whispered, not trusting himself to look up. 

“Dean-...“

“Cas, wait,” Dean interrupted, taking a small step backwards. “I can’t, you’re Sam’s teacher.”

Frowning, Castiel stepped back to the relative safety of his desk. “I checked the rule book Dean; there is nothing that prohibits a teacher from dating a parent - or guardian in your case.”

“I....” He stopped to clear his throat before starting again, eyes refusing to meet Castiel’s. “I bartend at the Roadhouse a few nights a week. Tuesdays are usually pretty slow. So if a certain someone came and sat at the bar, I wouldn’t ignore them.”

Taking a deep breath, Dean glanced up at the other man. Castiel watched him for a minute, head tilting gently to the side again as he thought. “I think I have heard of that particular establishment before.”

“Well, I should probably get back to the booth, I’m barely working enough hours as it is.” With a nod, Dean held the book up. “Thanks for the book Cas, I’ll try to get it back to you as soon as I can.”

“Take your time,” Castiel insisted, walking Dean to the door. 

As Dean turned to make his way back down the hall he could have sworn he heard something else. Something that sounded vaguely like “maybe I’ll see you Tuesday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry for the Gilmore Girls references. I'm just not. I'm channeling the hell out of Max Medina. Hopefully someone out there is enjoying this as much as I am. 
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you wonderful people. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Kudos and comments really are the best sort of presents a girl could ask for.


	5. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry about how late this is! I got super sick and then Christmas happened and yeah. Thank you so much for all the love I've gotten in the mean time. Every comment and kudo and bookmark makes my day so much brighter.
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely Arianllyn for being a wonderful beta. She ups my grammar game y'all. 
> 
> Enough of me talking, enjoy!

Chapter 5: October 

The next two weeks seemed to crawl by. Sure Dean was just as busy as ever, shuttling Sam back and forth to school, working at the auto shop full time during the week, bartending at the Roadhouse a few nights a week, and then trying to take care of the house, chores, and spend time with Sam on the weekend. He barely had a spare moment to sleep, but somehow his brain still managed to replay his last conversation with Castiel a dozen times a day. Now that he was on his second Tuesday after inviting Castiel to drop by, he felt like he was slowly losing his mind. 

“You look like crap,” a teasing voice called. 

Dean rolled his eyes as he finished pouring a beer. “Thanks Jo, you look stunning as usual.”

His friend and coworker grinned brightly at him as she plucked the pint glass from his hand. “Anytime Dean.” With a flip of her blonde ponytail she turned to deliver the beer to a surly looking man at the other end of the bar. 

Letting out a soft sigh, Dean turned to lean back against the bar and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. The bell above the door chimed. “Just sit anywhere,” he called without looking. He needed to get it together. It was only 8 o’clock and he still had four hours left in his shift. Taking a final deep breath, Dean prepared himself to turn around. 

A hand on his elbow stopped him. “Don’t worry man,” Jo said, her voice kind as she gave him a small smile. “Take a second to relax.”

Nodding, Dean turned to look over the bar. He knew it was a slow time of night but he hated to leave Jo in a lurch, even just for a few minutes. When he saw their newest customer settling onto a stool at the empty end of the bar he froze at the sight of a tan trench coat and familiar blue eyes. Before he could think, Dean was chasing after Jo, his long legs easily catching up to her just as she stopped in front of Castiel.

“I’ve uh- I got this, Jo,” Dean breathed, his heart pounding in his throat as he got his first good look of the other man. “Hey, Cas.”

Jo looked back and forth between them before a small smile pulled at her lips. “You know each other?”

“Just go see if Rufus needs another, okay?” Dean snipped, without turning to look at her. He couldn’t fight the smile that was breaking across his face. He felt a knot in his gut loosen at the sight of Castiel here, in the Roadhouse, part of Dean’s world for once. 

Jo glanced between them once more before backing away. “You’re not the boss of me Winchester.”

Dean flipped her the middle finger over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. “Charming,” the other man drawled, raising a brow as he glanced at the gesture. 

Dean shrugged, grinning as he leaned on his forearms against the counter. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Immediately, Dean mentally kicked himself for sounding desperate. He was smoother than this, dammit.

Castiel deflated slightly in his seat, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yes, I wanted to come last week, but my brother called and well… Gabriel is time consuming, to say the least.”

At that, a weight that Dean didn’t realize he had been carrying was lifted from his shoulders. Castiel hadn’t been avoiding him. Straightening up, he fought the urge to brush his hand across Castiel’s. “I’m just screwing with you, man. What can I get for you?”

Castiel looked at the selection of the liquor behind Dean, his brow furrowing and eyes pinched into a squint, as though he hadn’t considered what he would do once he actually got to the bar. “I don’t suppose you could suggest a nice Cabernet?”

Dean bit back a laugh once he realized the other man was most likely serious. “Sorry, our regulars don’t tend to be big wine drinkers. Ellen stocks two, one red and one white. Seriously, that’s what the bottle says instead of a vintage. Red or white.”

“That’s… horrifying,” Castiel replied with a grimace. “Well, when in Rome. What can you suggest in the way of a beer?”

“Well, I guess that depends on what you like?”

Humming softly, Castiel thought for a moment. “I don’t care for anything that has too much hops and is very bitter, but I’m not partial to beers that barely taste like more than water either.”

Beaming, Dean held up a finger. “Hold on, I think I’ve got just the thing.” He turned and picked a glass up from out of the rack. This, Dean could do; this was his area. 

A minute later, he placed an amber pint in front of Castiel, watching him expectantly. Castiel picked up the beer, studying it for a minute before taking a tentative sip. His brow relaxed as he took another, longer sip. “That’s delicious, what is it?”

Dean felt his brain turn to white noise as he stared at the small line of foam across Castiel’s upper lip. The flash of pink as Castiel ran his tongue across it just about sent him to an early grave. “It’s uh, it’s the Red Dirt Country Ale from Yankee Tank Brewing Company. They’re a small local joint. I finally got Ellen to bring in some Kansas beers.”

Castiel hummed again as he lifted the glass for another sip. Dean was momentarily entranced as he watched the muscles in Castiel’s throat work. “So, you mentioned having a brother?” Dean asked as he leaned back against the far side of the bar, putting a little distance between himself and Castiel.

“Yes, I have two brothers and one sister. I think I told you about the oldest, Michael, last week; he’s eight years older than I am. I’m afraid we don’t have much of a relationship, with the age gap and then how he took over for the family. He’s a finance lawyer now, and a pretentious dick. Anna is five years my senior. We were very close growing up, but it’s been harder since she moved to California to pursue an art history degree. Then there’s Gabriel, he’s three years older than me, and to say he has ‘middle child syndrome’ would be putting it lightly.” Castiel replied, tracing his fingers through the condensation on his glass. 

“I’m sure he’s not so bad.”

Castiel fixed him with an incredulous look, his brow raised. “Your kindness is appreciated but I assure you, he is a handful to say the least. We have a slightly closer relationship but I’m afraid I can only handle him in small doses. None of my family is close like you and Sam.”

Dean frowned slightly, trying to figure out his response, when a wave from one of the tables caught his attention. “Duty calls, I’ll be right back.” He paused, giving Castiel a quick once over. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Castiel replied with a soft smile. 

Rapping his knuckles on the counter, Dean strode off towards the small table of truckers that stopped in once a week. He could feel the weight of Castiel’s gaze on his back, and he tried to bite back his annoyance at being interrupted; after all, it’s not like he was on a real date or anything. It was nice though, just having Castiel there as he went about his normal routine. The other man would flash him a small smile whenever their eyes met, and it never failed to make Dean’s heart skip a beat. 

When they got a chance, Dean would lean against the bar and swap stories. Castiel had more than a few stories about outrageous things his students had written in papers or asked in class. Dean replied in turn with stories that Sam would kill him for sharing. It was nice, the conversation flowing easily, in a way that Dean didn’t often feel with others. If he could forget about the way he kept getting pulled away, it almost felt like a date. 

“What does your shirt mean?” Castiel asked, gesturing with his beer to the tshirt that Dean wore underneath his flannel. 

Dean looked down, pulling the front of his shirt out as he took a moment to remember what he was wearing. He frowned when he saw the familiar Led Zeppelin ‘Icarus’ logo. “You’re kidding me right?”

Castiel shrugged, his eyes flicking across Dean’s chest as he took another sip of his beer. “I’m afraid I’m completely serious.”  
  
  


“Seriously, man?” Dean asked again in disbelief. How did this charming, educated, and ridiculously attractive man not recognize the band that served as a major cornerstone of classic rock? “It’s _Led Zeppelin_ dude.” Castiel raised a brow, his blank stare indicating that Dean hadn’t cleared anything up. “Oh my God, I can’t even- hold on.”

Raising a hand, Dean hurried towards the back office behind the bar. Behind Ellen’s desk, an iPod was plugged into the bar’s meager sound system. Usually, they played a mix of classic and more recent rock music, the volume turned low so that people could talk over the noise. He scrolled through the playlist before he found what he was looking for. It was time the teacher became the student. Cranking the volume, Dean hurried back out front as the opening guitar lick began to play and the bass started to pound through the speakers. 

“Ah-ah, ah! Ah-ah, ah!” Dean sang along with Robert Plant as he turned dramatically around the corner. Castiel’s brow furrowed into that damned squint as Dean sauntered towards him, shoulders bouncing to the beat. “We come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun, where the hot springs flow!”

Taking a running start, Dean hopped up onto the bartop and slid on his knees. His eyes were closed as he crooned along to the song and wildly fingered his air guitar. The patrons of the bar had all turned to watch but the only eyes Dean felt were Castiel’s. “Valhalla, I am coming!” 

Thrashing his head to the heavy beat, Dean turned to grin at the other man as he crooned. “On we sweep with threshing oar, our only goal will be the western shore!”

Castiel covered his smirk with the hand that wasn’t holding his beer safely away from Dean’s thrashing limbs, but nothing could dim the spark in those ocean deep eyes. Dean tore his gaze away as he fumbled over lyrics, letting his eyes flutter shut. This way, there was nothing but him, Castiel and the music. 

“Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh!” The lyrics faded away as the final chords echoed through the room. As the song transitioned, a round of applause and whistles sounded throughout the bar.

Dean’s eyes flew open as he suddenly remembered where he was. Thankful that the low lighting of the bar hid how flushed his cheeks were, Dean tried to gracefully slide back off the bartop. “I’ll be here all night, ladies and gents!”

“Nice performance Winchester,” Jo called before ducking into the office to turn the music back down. 

His chest still heaving from his performance, Dean leaned forward against the bar, settling his weight on his elbows. “So, that was Led Zeppelin.”

Castiel smirked at him, slowly leaning forward as though they were magnetically drawn together. “I gathered as much.”

Tongue flicking across his lips, Dean studied the gentle curve of Castiel’s lips and the way one corner pulled slightly higher than the other. “I still can’t believe you didn’t recognize them.”

With a frown, Castiel glanced into his drink. “I’m afraid I missed out on quite a bit. Between the chaos at home and my nonexistent circle of friends at school, if it wasn’t found in the pages of a book or taught in class, then it never really made its way into my radar.”

Suddenly, Dean felt like a bit of a dick. Nudging Castiel’s hand with his arm, Dean watched him with a small, fond smile. “I guess it’s a good thing you have me around then. Someone has to fill in the, frankly, astounding gaps in your education.” 

Castiel studied him momentarily, his fingers aimlessly tracing through the condensation on his glass once again. “Yes,” he hummed. “I’m certainly lucky to have you in my life.”

A heavy, yet surprisingly comfortable silence settled over them as each man nervously studied the other. Dean’s mind was reeling. What was he doing here? Sure, things with Castiel were easy and felt right in a way nothing had in a long time, but that was all the more reason to pull away. If they kept this up his silly crush was going to grow and Dean would find himself pining for something he could never have. Thankfully, he was pulled away from his miniature freak out when the music suddenly switched.

Instead of the edgy sounds of Zeppelin, upbeat pop music flooded the bar as the music grew in volume. 

‘ _Nice to meet you, where you been?’_

Dean straightened, immediately casting an accusing glare towards the entry to back office.

_‘I could show you incredible things, magic, madness, heaven sin, saw you there and I thought, Oh my God, look at that face, you look like my next mistake.’_

Jo came around the corner with a big grin, her head bobbing slightly to the music, as she made her way across the room.

“What the fuck is this?” Dean groaned, his face contorting into a grimace. “Hold on, I’m gonna go shut this shit off.”

Before he could take a step towards the office, a hand flew out to grip his arm. Dean turned to look questioningly down at where Castiel’s long fingers were wrapped around his forearm. “Leave it,” Castiel said, his thumb running across bare skin. 

Dean shook his head slightly, trying to pull his concentration away from those five points of contact. Looking up, he felt his brain short circuit, as he watched Castiel’s shoulders shimmy slightly as he mouthed along to the lyrics.

‘ _So it's gonna be forever or it's gonna go down in flames,_

_you can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain.’_

“Cas, dude, you can’t tell me you like this crap,” Dean groaned, trying to focus on the absurdity of the situation and not how good Castiel looked, moving to the beat as though he didn’t have a care in the world. 

His friend froze, his face completely serious as he looked up at Dean. “Dean, Taylor Swift is one of the most decorated artists on the radio right now.”

With a soft groan, Dean let himself droop forward dramatically. “I knew you were too good to be true,” he said with a pout.

Castiel scoffed at him and let go of his arm. With a smirk, he began to dance in his seat as he sang along loudly, his shoulders swaying back and forth to the music. Dean tried to keep the fond smile off his face as he watched. He would never agree with the man’s choice in music but he couldn’t fight the way his chest tightened at the sight of Castiel freely making a fool of himself to something he loved. 

“But I've got a blank space baby, and I'll write your name!” Cas sang, his voice slightly off key. It was completely ridiculous but Dean was pretty sure he fell a little more in love with Castiel Novak as he hummed along to the last beats of music. 

What he didn’t see was the knowing smile Jo shot in his direction as she ducked behind the bar and back into the office. Still caught up in the soft smile tugging at Castiel’s lips and the way Castiel looked up at him through dark lashes, Dean failed to notice as the music switched back to their normal playlist. 

“You’re ridiculous, Cas,” he mumbled fondly, his fingers itching to smooth an errant lock of hair. 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Castiel drained the last sip of his beer. “I know what I like and I spent too many years being ridiculed in school to care any longer. 

Dean nodded absentmindedly, trying to push back the irrational flash of anger that flared in his gut at the idea of anyone targeting his friend. Clearing his throat, Dean pointed to the empty glass between them, glad for an easy out. “You want another?” 

Frowning, Castiel glanced down at his watch. “I shouldn’t, it’s just after ten thirty, and I have to be at school early for a tutoring session in the morning.”

Dean stood with a start and cast a quick look around the bar. Sure enough, their regulars had started to filter out for the night, just a few parties lingering in booths along the walls. How had almost three hours passed already?

“Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He was a little embarrassed at how caught up in Castiel’s attention he had been. He was going to majorly owe Jo for pulling his share of the weight. 

“I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun,” Dean teased as he picked up the empty glass, glad to have something to do with his hands. “I only have an hour and a half left in my shift!”

“When do you manage to sleep?” Castiel asked as he picked up his trench coat from the stool next to him.

Dean barked a laugh at the other man’s concern. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Cas; until then there are bills to pay and much better things to do in a bed,” he said, shooting Castiel a suggestive wink. 

Castiel’s cheeks flushed pink at the suggestion but his eyes danced mischievously as they dragged slowly down Dean’s chest. “I’m sure I could think of a few,” he hummed, his voice pitching lower than Dean thought possible. 

“Yeah?” Dean breathed, his own gaze dropping to Castiel’s mouth as he unconsciously leaned in. “Maybe you could tell me about them some time.”

A loud crash echoed through the mostly empty bar, the noise shocking Dean from his almost trance like state. He glanced over to where Jo was cursing at their waiter Ash over an upturned tray of glasses on the floor. “I should probably-”

“Yes.” Castiel nodded, reached towards his pocket to grab his wallet and offered up his credit card.. 

“Nah, man, it’s on the house,” Dean insisted, as he gently pushed Castiel’s proffered hand away.

Castiel’s brows furrowed as he seemed to consider what Dean has said. After a moment, he pulled a bill out and slid it across the bar top. “Fine, but it’s customary to tip your bartender for excellent service.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Dean tried to slide the bill back, but found Castiel’s grip firm.

“Friends don’t have to tip friends,” he countered. “Besides, I invited you to come in.”

Castiel covered Dean’s hand with his own, the warm skin soft against Dean’s callouses. “You can put it towards our first real date then.” With a gentle squeeze, Castiel’s hand was gone as he pulled away. “Good night Dean.”

With a final soft smile, Castiel turned and was gone. As Dean watched him leave, he couldn’t help but be glad that the other man hadn’t put on his coat yet. Somehow, in the last two weeks, he had forgotten just how attractive Cas was. And if he thought Castiel’s ass looked great in khakis, that was nothing to how the jeans he wore now hugged every curve of his hips.

“Hate to see them go, but love to watch ‘em leave; am I right?” 

Dean glowered as Jo sidled up next to him; he didn’t have to look to see her knowing smirk. Her presence was a sharp reminder that he wasn’t alone. If he wasn’t going to stop his stupid crush on Castiel, he had to be more careful. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he groused and turned to drop Castiel’s empty glass in a rack. 

Rolling her eyes, Jo pushed past her oldest friend to check on the remaining customers. “Sure, you don’t.”

Dean pushed the rack back with more force than was strictly necessary. “Shut up, Harvelle,” he grumbled.

Despite her teasing he couldn’t be mad, not really. It seemed as though nothing could calm the twist of his gut as he thought back to the way Castiel had danced in his seat. God, he was in deep. Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, Dean let his head roll back against the wall.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will stand with Team Cas Loves Taylor Swift until the end. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please take a second to let me know what you think!


	6. Late October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! This Chapter was accidentally not posted in the correct order so if you're already read chapter 7, I am SO sorry. 
> 
> Please enjoy their first date.

_ Sam [12:43 PM]: SOS _

_ Sam [12:45 PM]: Come up to the school!  _

_ Sam [12:47 PM]: Now Dean! _

Dean flew into the parking lot, slamming on the breaks as the Impala jerked to a stop in the first available parking spot. He grabbed his jacket, not bothering to put it on, as he ran in the direction of where he remembered the gym being located. His mind was running a mile a minute, as he thought of every possible horrible scenario that could have caused his brother to send him such a flurry of hurried texts. 

His boots slapped against the cobble stones as he followed the sound of voices and handmade signs advertising ‘Adoption Event this way!’. 

“Sammy!” He bellowed, gripping his side as he burst into the room. A few dozen people turned to look at him, a hush falling over the room. He could just make out the top of his brother’s head, pushing through the crowd towards him.

“Uh, hey Dean. You came.”

Dean gave his little brother a once over, looking for the injury that had to be there. His eyes stopped as he noticed the ball of fluff in his brother’s arms. “You’d better be dying Sam,” he stated warily. 

“I’m okay Dean, I promise.” Sam had the good sense to look embarrassed at his brother’s concern. 

Dean looked him over one last time, just to be sure. When everything still checked out, he crossed his arms and glowered up at Sam. “What the Hell! Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

Sam shrugged, flashing him a small smile. “I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, you got it,” Dean grumbled. He was so putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo for this, and plastic wrap over the toilet seat. “What’s up?”

Sam held the small bundle of fur up, bringing it back to Dean’s attention. The ball of fur uncurled into a small, grey tabby cat that watched Dean warily with bright green eyes. “So, this is Chester. It’s a terrible name, I know, but we can change it.”

Dean raised a brow. “Why would we do that?”

Clearing his throat, Sam scratched under Chester’s chin. “Chester here has been with the shelter for a year now. He’s 7, which is older than most people want to adopt. Everyone always goes for kittens.”

“Tragic story Sammy, but how exactly do we factor into this?” Dean fought back a smirk, as his brother floundered. At this point Dean was determined to make him work for it. 

Sam adjusted his grip, holding the cat under his front leg to raise him up. “You see, he’s also missing a front leg. Most people probably think that makes him defective, but, I don’t know, I think it makes him unique. He’s a fighter.”

“He’s cute, so what?”

Sam let out a sigh before raising the tabby until it was next to his face, two pairs of eyes watching Dean. “So, can we adopt him?”

Dean watched as his brother made the cat wave a paw in his direction. He’d already decided to let his brother keep the cat when he’d started his spiel. After losing both their parents, Dean would do whatever he could to give the kid some semblance of a normal life. Add to that Sam’s perfect grades, and his work with the Student Government and debate club at school,and he had beyond earned it. “You really mean to tell me that you had me haul ass up here, on my day off, to ask if you could get a gimp cat?”

“Yes?” Sam bit his lip and gave Dean his best doe eyes. 

Leaning in, Dean scratched the cat behind the ear, lip curling in a small smile as Chester began to purr. “Yeah, bring the little bugger home.”

“You mean it?” 

If Dean hadn’t already been convinced, the hopeful look on his brother’s face would have done it. “Yeah, Sammy, now go find out what paperwork I need to sign, before I change my mind.”

“Thanks, Dean!” Sam breathed, his face lighting up before he turned to run back into the crowd. “Jess! He said yes!”

Pulling on his jacket, Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched his brother fawn over the cat with his girlfriend. 

“That was a nice thing you did.” 

Dean jumped a little at the rough voice, his heart skipping a beat as he turned to meet Castiel’s gaze. He ran a hand over the back of his neck and shrugged. “The kid has earned it, besides it’s nice to see him happy. How’d you get roped into this?”

“I act as one of the advisors to the student government,” Castiel explained as he stepped closer, because once again, the guy had apparently never heard of personal space. 

Dean tried to focus on anything but how good the other man looked, dressed in jeans and a thick navy blue sweater with three chunky buttons at the neck. Whoever had told him that blue was his color had done the world a service. “That sounds… well, it sounds terrible, but that’s why you’re the teacher and not me.”

Castiel huffed a small laugh. “I was planning on calling you when I finished. What are you doing tonight?”

“Uh, nothing much,” Dean replied quietly, looking over his shoulder to make sure Sam was still safely occupied. “You got any ideas?”

“A few.”

“Want to share with the class?”

Castiel shook his head, a corner of his mouth turning into a small smile. “No, I would rather keep it a surprise.”

Dean huffed in mock annoyance. “Not sure how much I like surprises Cas.”

“I am reasonably certain you’ll enjoy this one.” Castiel’s voice was deeper than normal as he replied, sending a pang of arousal through Dean’s gut. 

Trying to keep his mind out of the gutter, and mostly failing, Dean ran a hand over his mouth. “Alright. You’re on.”

Castiel’s smile widened, his ridiculously blue eyes crinkling in the corners. “Good. Meet me at my place at 7:30 tonight. I’ll text you the address.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Dean nodded his assent. How was he expected to be able to string together words when Castiel was looking at him like that?

“See you tonight, Dean.” With a brush of his hand against Dean’s shoulder, Castiel was gone, making his way across the room. 

Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, lingering over the way the other man’s jeans hugged his ass as he walked. Shaking his head in a weak attempt to dispel that train of thought, Dean headed over to where his brother was still excitedly showing off his new cat. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought, just 6 hours left until he finally got to spend some one-on-one time with Castiel. 

XXXXX

Flicking through his closet for the third time, Dean let out a low growl. He was being ridiculous. This wasn’t even a date. Just two buddies hanging out, doing a mystery activity together. So what if Dean desperately wanted said buddy to fuck him into the mattress until he forgot his own name? It was still no excuse to be acting like a teenage girl getting ready for the Prom. 

Deciding once and for all that he was being ridiculous, Dean pulled a dark green flannel and a black t-shirt out of the closet. If the flannel happened to make his own eyes stand out and the t-shirt was a little more snug than normal, well, no one could blame Dean for wanting to look nice. He had no idea where the evening was going to take him after all. 

“You sure you’re going to be okay tonight Sammy?” Dean asked, as he walked into the living room. 

Sam looked up at him from where he was curled up on the floor, his new cat flopped on the carpet in front of him and the dozen cat toys they had bought spread around them. “You look good, hot date?”

“No, I’m just going to go hang out with a friend.” Dean tried to school his face into a neutral expression. It was definitely  _ not _ a date.

“Is she the same friend who you’ve been texting non stop for the past two months?” Sam smirked up at him. Observant bastard.

Dean grimaced as he pocketed his keys. He hated lying to his brother. “So what if it is? It’s still not a date. Now are you going to be good here alone or not?”

“Whatever, I can fend for myself for a few hours. Chester and I will probably just order a pizza and get caught up on some homework,” Sam huffed as he turned back to his cat. 

“Okay well, there’s pizza money on the table,” Dean said, shrugging into his brown leather jacket. “And we need a new name for that cat already. I refuse to call him  _ Chester _ .”

Sam picked the tabby up, nuzzling the soft fur on top of its head. “What about Orwell or Dumas?”

Dean grimaced. “No. No way. He needs a name that’s badass. Like Zeppelin or Picard.”

“Picard? Really?” His brother shot him a look. 

“What, the Captain of the USS Enterprise isn’t good enough for you?”

“He’s not bald, for starters,” Sam said, watching as the tabby hopped across the floor towards one of the stuffed mice. 

Dean shot his brother a shit eating grin as he checked his pockets one last time. “Okay, you got me. We’ll name him Zeppelin.” 

“Go enjoy your date jerk,” Sam huffed. 

“It’s not a date, bitch,” Dean called, as he made his way towards the garage door. “Have fun with Zeppelin!”

XXX

The ride to Castiel’s apartment was surprisingly quick. Dean found himself thinking about how close they apparently lived, and the different places they could potentially run into each other around town as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the building. 

Castiel’s apartment was on the top floor of a small building. He took the steps two at a time, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding and the butterflies in his stomach, paying no mind to his surroundings. Once he arrived at the top of the stairs he paused. Checking the apartment number on his phone one last time, Dean sucked in a deep breath. He was being stupid, he’d been on dozens of first dates before. Besides, this wasn’t even a real date, no matter how much Dean secretly wished it was. 

Seconds after he rapped his knuckles against the door, it was opening. Dean felt his mouth go dry and his heart skipped a beat. Castiel was dressed in the same sinfully form fitting jeans from before, this time paired with a thin, vintage heather grey Led Zeppelin t-shirt and slim black leather jacket. The buckle across the neck of the jacket was stark against the pale skin of his neck and while Dean had never imagined Castiel in leather, the simple design fit him. With the thin layer of stubble across his sharp jawline and his disheveled hair, Cas looked like sex walking. 

“Hello, Dean. Would you like to come in for a minute?”

Dean blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to push Castiel inside his apartment and spend the night inside the other man’s bedroom. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand across his mouth. 

“No, I uh, we should probably go right?” If he went in that apartment he was never leaving. 

Castiel tilted his head to the side as he momentarily gave Dean a once over. “Sure, let me just grab my keys.”

Blowing out a breath that he hadn’t been aware he was holding, Dean stuffed his hands into the pockets of his own brown leather jacket. The entrance hallway to Castiel’s apartment was sparsely decorated. Besides a pair of running shoes kicked off by the door, the only other thing was a piece of modern art that Dean could barely glimpse. It made him even more curious to see the inside of Castiel’s place. Was it all so utilitarian looking, or did it become more homey the deeper inside you went?

“You sure you don’t want the tour?” Castiel asked with a smug smirk. 

Dean harrumphed softly, forcing himself to look away from the other man and shrug nonchalantly. “I don’t think we’d have time for the tour I’d like,” he muttered, looking back towards the parking lot. 

Castiel chuckled softly as he followed Dean out of the doorway. Dean took the opportunity to look him over one more time when he turned to look up. When Castiel turned, he had one brow raised, as though he had caught Dean in the act of checking him out. “Would you like to drive or should I?

Dean balked halfway down the first set of stairs. “You cannot be serious right now.”

Shrugging, Castiel brushed past him down the steps. “I was just making a polite offer, Dean. Don’t worry, I am well aware of how intensely attached you are to your mammoth of a car.”

“Don’t you call my Baby names!” Dean hollered, hurrying down the steps after him.

“I would never dream of it,” Cas drawled, turning to start down the last flight of stairs.

“My Baby is a beauty. At least I don’t drive that hunk of junk,” Dean insisted, pointing to the slightly run down, ugly, tan Lincoln Continental that was parked next to the Impala. “It looks like it dropped right out of the worst part of the eighties.”

“I’ll have you know that car is a 1992 make,” Castiel said smoothly as he lovingly patted the hood of the Lincoln.

Dean froze, his own hand stopping midair as he reached for the handle of the Impala’s driver’s side door. “That hunk of junk is  _ your _ car?”

Castiel huffed in mock annoyance as he helped himself into the Impala. “No, that timeless Continental, which runs perfectly fine, is my car.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief while sliding into the driver’s seat. “I don’t believe it. How can someone so educated and attractive drive a car so ugly?”

Dean backed out of his space and made towards the road, leaving the car in question behind. As he drove, Castiel gave him a knowing grin. “You think I’m attractive?”

Dean mentally cursed his big mouth, pulling out into traffic and following the printed instructions Castiel had passed him. “Don’t be intentionally daft,” Dean grumbled.

Letting out a boisterous burst of laughter, Castiel let his head drop back. “Okay, now I know you learned that sentence from Sam.”

“Hey, I read and know things,” Dean bluffed.

“I’m sure you do,” Castiel replied smoothly, his lips still curved into a knowing smirk. “But it just so happened that was one of the new words we discussed this week in  _ my  _ English class after reading a British novella. You know, the same class that your brother attends.”

Shit. Dean groaned, he knew when he’d met his match and Castiel had definitely won this argument. 

“Okay, fine, Sam taught it to me, because he kept being all pretentious with it, walking around the house like the genius he is. And yeah, sometimes I let him teach me things because it seems to help him retain the information better. You got me, Cas.”   
  


Castiel leaned back against his seat and turned to watch Dean with a small, fond smile. Dean glanced over, then back at the road. “

What?” He asked. When Castiel didn’t answer and just kept giving him that soft smile, he asked again. “What?”

“You’re so devoted to your brother,” Castiel hummed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the Impala. “He’s incredibly lucky to have you in his life, especially as his guardian.”

“Whatever, I just do what anyone else would do,” Dean huffed, keeping his eyes determinedly on the road. 

Castiel shook his head and let his hand rest momentarily on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean, I’ve seen hundreds of supposedly dedicated parents in my career, but you truly are one of a kind. Please, believe me when I tell you that you are an incredible influence on your brother, and that he is extremely lucky to have you.”

Momentarily overcome with emotion and at a loss for words, Dean focused on the road ahead. He was pretty sure their last turn was coming up soon. After a minute or two of silence, Dean finally glanced over to Castiel and shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks Cas. People say that off the cuff sometimes, but I’ve been told to turn him over to the foster system more times than I can count, so it actually means something coming from you.”

Sensing that Dean was uncomfortable going any further with this line of conversation, Castiel nodded, and simply replied, “you’re welcome Dean.”

Dean gave a sharp nod before pressing play on the tape deck. The soft sounds of Zeppelin III came through the stereo and they sat in comfortable silence until they reached their destination. 

“Turn left here,” Castiel said, pointing in the direction of a small theater that looked like it had been plucked out of the 70s and dropped in modern-day Kansas.

“You won’t just give me a clue?” Dean huffed as he turned the Impala into a parking lot.

Dean could almost taste Castiel’s smirk as he replied, stepping out of the car. “Patience is a virtue Dean.”

Muttering under his breath, Dean followed his friend across the parking lot and towards the theater. ‘Stairway To Heaven’ the kiosk proclaimed. “You didn’t bring me to a musical did you Cas?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you,” Castiel replied as he passed two tickets to the amused doorman.

“Hey man,” Dean said, stepping around Castiel to catch the doorman’s eyes. “I’ll give you ten bucks if you tell me what’s going on here tonight.”

The attendant, a large balding hulk of a man, looked between the two of them with a sly grin. “Nah, I think I’ll side with your boyfriend, here.”

Castiel beamed, slipping his arm around Dean’s shoulders, as the brunette sputtered. “Thank you; now, come on inside, honey, I’ll get you a beer.”

Dean tried not to enjoy the solid heat of Castiel’s arm around him, and he definitely didn’t make a soft noise when fingers brushed over his collar bone. He couldn’t think straight, let alone correct the doorman, and let Castiel lead him inside. 

“‘S not a date,” he muttered, finally. 

Castiel glanced towards him before dropping his arm, a small frown pulling at his lips. Dean immediately missed the feeling of his friend pressed up against him and silently kicked himself for saying anything. 

“I know, Dean,” Castiel responded after a minute. He tucked his hands carefully into his pockets and looked pointedly over Dean’s shoulder. “I was just messing with you. Come on, I’ll get you that drink.”

Nodding absentmindedly, Dean followed him through the crowd of people.The inside of the venue was small and dimly lit. A stage was set up and it was all standing room only. Dean turned around slowly, taking in the decades of vintage concert posters on the walls. From the Rolling Stones to Prince, the club had clearly seen its share of history. Castiel nudged his shoulder, dragging his attention from their surroundings. In the dim lighting, Castiel’s eyes were almost navy blue.

“What do you want to drink?”

Dean startled briefly. He  _ had _ to stop getting lost in Castiel’s damn eyes like a fucking girl. “I could go for a beer.”

Castiel nodded and started to turn to make his way towards the bar, but Dean grabbed his elbow. “You know what, let me get them. You already bought the tickets for whatever the hell this is. What do you want?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, as he studied Dean in that way that had become so familiar. “Just get me whatever you’re having.”

Flashing him a grin, Dean started to push his way through the crowd. As he waited to get the attention of the bartender, he glanced over his shoulder. His stomach clenched in that way that was starting to become familiar any time he looked at, or fuck, even thought about Castiel, as he watched his friend stand there. Castiel looked so adorably out of place, standing there stiffly in the middle of the crowd. Despite his relaxed clothes, and ,God, did he look good in that jacket, Castiel looked uncomfortable. He stood with his hands in his jacket pockets as he studied his surroundings with his trademark intensity.

“What can I get you hon?”

Dean turned towards the bar and smiled at the bartender. She was gorgeous, with long blonde hair and curves for days; exactly the type of woman he would have normally gone for, but all he could think about was how her hair was the wrong color and that her eyes weren’t blue. “I’ll take whatever lager you have on tap,” he said, trying to slip back into his usual charm. 

“And what does your girlfriend want?”

Dean startled, blinking up at her in confusion. “What?”

The bartender smiled at him as she poured his drink from the tap. “Yeah, I saw the way you were looking back at her. You had the cutest little smile. She must be quite the catch.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Dean said, resisting the urge to glance back towards Castiel. “They sure are. Give me another lager for- ehm, please.” 

She poured his second drink and passed them over with a wink. Dean passed her a few bills in return, barely remembering to count them out first. He had begun to accept his…  _ crush _ on Castiel, but it was completely different to be called out on it by someone else. Shit, if a stranger could tell with just a look, he was clearly not hiding it as well as he thought. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed their drinks and started to push his way back through the crowd. He was  _ so _ screwed.

Castiel turned towards him as he got close, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a small smile. “You okay? He asked, giving Dean a skeptical look. 

Avoiding eye contact, Dean took a long gulp of his beer. “Yeah man, just wondering when I’m going to find out what this big surprise is.”

Almost on cue, the stage lights began to strobe, and the house lights dimmed further. The crowd began to cheer as four men took the stage. The low thud of the bass drum started up, was slowly joined by guitar and then the thrum of a bass guitar. “There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold and she’s buying a stairway to heaven.”

Dean turned to look at Castiel, nudging his shoulder and damn, he was grinning like an idiot. “Did you seriously bring me to a Zeppelin cover band?” He hollered over the music. 

Castiel bit his lip, glancing at Dean, then back to the stage, looking almost nervous when he looked back at Dean with a shrug of his shoulders. “You said you always wished that you could have seen them when they were still together.”

“Shit, I mean, yeah,” Dean stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, as he tried to ignore the clench in his stomach. Bumping Castiel’s arm with his elbow, Dean fought to push down his emotions and turned back towards the stage. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Castiel hummed as he leaned in close to be heard over the music. His lips brushed against the shell of Dean’s ear, smiling as Dean fought back shivers.

“They’re not bad either,” Dean replied, glad the loud music covered the crack in his voice. “I always assumed that a cover band would suck.”

“The guitarist is no Jimmy Page, but he’s not bad,” Castiel said, leaning in close and letting his lips brush against the shell of Dean’s ear. When he leaned back, he had a small, proud smirk. 

“God I could kiss you right now,” Dean groaned, putting a hand to his chest and clapping his other hand against Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel unconsciously leaned in, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips. Dean couldn’t help but follow suit, a shiver working its way down his spine as Castiel’s tongue flicked across his lips and fuck, Dean knew that he had good reasons for not kissing Castiel but right there, none of them seemed important. Nothing felt as important as finally finding out if Castiel’s lips were as soft as they looked, or finally hearing the soft noises that he would make when Dean slowly took him apart. Without thinking, Dean shuffled a step closer until they were mere inches apart. Just when he thought that he couldn’t stand the tension for another second, someone jolted into his back as they pushed by. Dean lurched forward, catching himself with a hand against Castiel’s chest. 

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, as he hurriedly straightened up and took a step back, the moment broken. “Sorry about that.”

Castiel gave Dean’s shoulder a small squeeze, alerting Dean to the fact that it was there in the first place. All his attention had been focused on the way Castiel’s chest felt, he must have tried to catch Dean’s trip. “Don’t worry about it ,Dean.”

With a jerky nod, Dean turned back to the stage as they played the final notes of Stairway to Heaven. He tried to pay attention as the lead singer introduced each member of the band, he really did. But despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept drifting back to the way Castiel’s chest had felt under his hand. He was loathe to admit how often he had thought about how the other man would look without a shirt ever since the car wash. But to actually feel it? To feel the firmly sculpted pectoral and the edge of his collar bone, that was almost enough to send him over the edge. 

“I’ll be right back, Dean hollered over the starting chords of Whole Lotta Love. Castiel nodded, his eyes never leaving the stage. 

Dean pushed through the crowd and into the relative safety of the men’s restroom. The bass and beat of the drum followed him, the rest of the song unable to penetrate the walls. He turned on the tap and splashed cool water on his face before resting his elbows on the counter and letting his head hang momentarily.

“Get it together, Winchester,” he grumbled, looking up to glower at his reflection in the mirror. “He’s your kid brother’s teacher and he’s a  _ man _ .”

After taking a few deep breaths, Dean pushed himself upright. His pulse had slowly returned to normal but he couldn’t seem to erase that clenching feeling in his gut or the faint tingle in his fingers where they had brushed against the neck of Castiel’s shirt.

With one final deep breath, Dean turned and made his way back out onto the floor. On the way back he stopped to grab another beer for himself and Castiel. Castiel had clearly put a lot of thought into this surprise and dammit, Dean was determined to have a nice night out with his  _ friend. _

The rest of the night passed in a blur of music and furtive glances. Occasionally Castiel would lean in to comment on something, his breath warm against Dean’s skin. Once again, his lips would brush against the shell of Dean’s ear and Dean had never been so grateful for the low lighting as he felt himself flush and fight back the shiver that tried to shake up his spine. Just when Dean thought there was no way he could handle another minute in such close contact, the band finished their final song. 

“Thank you for coming out tonight! As always we are Stairway to Heaven, good night!”

The crowd roared in response, sending the band off with deafening applause. 

“I think there’s another cover band playing next. Something called ‘Back in Black’,” Castiel said with a small shrug as the house lights flicked back on. “I’m not entirely sure to what that refers.”

Dean barked out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sometimes you amaze me, Cas.”

Castiel frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m not entirely sure what I did that was particularly amazing, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Clapping a hand to Castiel’s shoulder, Dean gave it a small squeeze. “Do you want to stay?”

Despite trying to hide it, Castiel pulled a face. “Whatever you’d like Dean. I planned this evening for you.”

“That might be the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me,” Dean teased, trying to hide just how touched he was by the offer. “But nah, don’t worry about it Cas, I won’t put you through an AC/DC cover band. Besides, I have a much better idea.”

“Lead on,” Castiel said, throwing an arm out.

Dean cocked his head in the direction of the door before turning to lead the way across the room. Without turning to check, he instinctively knew that Castiel was right behind him. 

The late night air was cool against his skin after the heat of close quarters for so long. The walk back to the Impala was short and the traffic to get away from the venue was practically nonexistent since almost everyone had stayed for the next band. 

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked, as Dean pulled out of the parking lot. “I can’t imagine that many places are open this late.”

Dean couldn’t fight back his grin. “Oh, I know a place.”

From the passenger seat, Cas furrowed his brow and squinted at him, as though if he looked hard enough maybe he could figure out what Dean was thinking. 

“Hey, don’t give me that face, man,” Dean said, biting back a laugh. “You surprised me once already. Now it’s my turn.”

At that, a comfortable silence filled the car. Dean hummed along to the tape that was still playing from before the show. Occasionally, Dean would glance over to Castiel, convinced he’d seen the other man nodding his head or tapping his knee along with the beat. But every time he looked, Castiel was pointedly staring out the window. 

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. The parking lot was nearly full with other late night diners. As Castiel closed the Impala door carefully, which hit Dean right in the heart, he looked around dubiously. 

“Dean, it’s nearly eleven o’clock, I cannot imagine that this establishment will be serving food much longer.”

Dean balked, staring over the roof of the Impala with his mouth hanging open. “Cas, are you seriously saying you’ve never been to a 24/7 diner?”

Castiel rolled his eyes so hard, Dean was worried they’d get stuck that way. “I know that my lack of experience is a marvel. I’m so sorry that I did not have the colorful and adventurous life that you seem to expect from most.”

“Hey, don’t be like that, Cas. I’m not trying to make you feel shitty. I just forget sometimes that you’ve never done certain things.”

Castiel nodded as they entered the diner. “You will be pleased to know then, that that was not my first ever concert.”

“No shit?” Dean asked, holding up two fingers to the hostess. “What was your first show?”

Castiel thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in that way that Dean was struggling not to find adorable. “I haven’t been to many, but I believe that my first concert was when I was 16 years old. Father gave Michael money with which to buy symphony tickets. I believe he just wanted us all out of the house for the night.”

Dean groaned as he slid into the seat on his side of the booth. “No way man, symphony concerts don’t count. When people say concert, they mean bands like Zeppelin or Bowie, not a group of orchestra nerds.”

“Well then, under your needlessly restrictive standards, yes that was my first ‘real’ concert,” Castiel replied, rolling his eyes as he made the finger quotes. “It’s a nonsense distinction though; a ‘concert’ is defined as a show played by live musicians. It does  _ not _ dictate how many musicians can play, nor what style of music is acceptable.”

“No need to be a sore loser, Cas,” Dean teased. “We both know that you lost your concert virginity to me tonight. No need to be shy.”

Castiel flushed the most beautiful shade of red at that. Dean couldn’t help but wonder just how far down that blush extended.

“What can I get you two tonight?” a perky voice interrupted. Dean looked up to see the older, portly woman that was their waitress. 

“I’ll take a pig ‘n a poke with an extra stack of blueberry pancakes on the side. Some coffee too, please, sweetheart.”

Castiel scrunched his nose as he studied the menu. “I suppose I’ll just have what he is having, minus the stack of pancakes. I would greatly appreciate some coffee.”

Without thinking, Dean nudged Castiel in the shin with the toe of his boot. “You won’t be disappointed, Cas,” he said with a fond smile. 

“It’s always nice to see young love,” their waitress said as she beamed down as them and clutched her orders pad to her heart. 

Dean cleared his throat, biting down his initial, horrified thoughts. He tried to smile at her but he was pretty sure that he just looked queasy. Why was everyone assuming they were together? He glanced across the table to Castiel and what he saw stopped his objections short. Castiel was looking at a spot on the table about 6 inches in front of him, his cheeks and ears slightly flushed, and his lips were curled into a small smile. Dean’s chest clenched at the sight. 

“Umm, thanks,” he finally murmured.

As their waitress walked away, it was Castiel’s turn to fondly nudge Dean’s foot with his own. “So, young love, huh?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look up and see the fond look in Castiel’s eyes. “Shut up.”

XXX

The rest of the night passed in easy conversation. Dean was happy to gloat when Castiel loved his dinner, and if their feet continued to bump under the table more than normal, well, no one had to know. 

“Can I get you dears anything else?” Their waitress asked, startling Dean out of their conversation.

Dean glanced at the clock above the counter, it was just past midnight. “I think it’s time for some pie.” He turned to shoot a wink at Castiel. 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat anything else. I’ll just take a cup of decaf, please,” Castiel insisted. 

Dean rolled his eyes at the waitress, but the effect was lost when he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Pecan pie for me sweetheart, and I guess just the decaf for Mr. Buzzkill over here.”

The waitress gave him a knowing wink before she glanced over at Castiel. “I’ll get that right out.”

“I can’t believe you just said no to pie Cas,” Dean said, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Pie is the food of the Gods man.”

Castiel squinted into his almost empty cup of coffee, his brow furrowed in a way that made Dean want to smooth it out with his thumb. “I wasn’t allowed to have sweets as a child, so I’m afraid that I never really got the taste for them.”

Dean collapsed back against his seat, clutching his chest. “Fuck, I’ve heard some sad things but that may be the most tragic thing that I’ve ever heard Cas.”

With a huff, Castiel glowered over his cup. Before he could respond though, the waitress was back. She sat a fresh mug of decaf in front of Castiel. In front of Dean, she put a large slice of the most beautiful pecan pie he’d ever seen. It had a perfectly golden crust and a small swirl of thick cream that clearly hadn’t come from a can. She placed two forks next to the plate as she shot a wink to a blushing Castiel. “Enjoy, gentlemen.”

Castiel took a small sip of his coffee, giving the pie a dubious glance. Shaking his head, Dean picked up a fork. The pie was tender against the tines and looked even more glorious up close. As he took a bite and let the flavors rolled over his tongue, Dean let out a low moan. “Christ that’s good.”

As his eyes fluttered open, he saw Castiel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his face flushed. With a smirk, Dean picked up another forkful and let out the dirtiest, most sinful moan he could. “Mmm, Cas,” he gasped around the metal tines. “You have got to try this pie.”

With a frown and furrowed brow, Castiel shifted once again in his seat. He looked pointedly down at the plate and licked his lips. “I suppose a bite won’t hurt.” His voice had dropped an octave and sounded even rougher than normal. 

“That’s the spirit,” Dean said, his eyes never leaving the curve of Castiel’s lips. Without thinking, Dean dug his fork into the pie, picking up a generous bite and offering it across the table. Castiel looked shocked, his blue eyes flicking between the proffered fork and Dean’s eyes. “Come on Castiel, just one bite,” Dean said, his own voice sounding low and husky even to his own ears. 

Finally, after a few seconds that felt like eons, Castiel leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the fork. His eyes fluttered shut and Dean tried his best not to get distracted by the dark fan of his eye lashes. Had they always been so long?

Castiel leaned back, releasing the fork as he settled against the back of his seat and licked his lips, tongue slowly flicking across the soft flesh. He missed a small crumb of crust that was nestled in the corner of his mouth and Dean felt his chest ache as he tried to fight his desire to lick it clean himself. Suddenly a little uncomfortable in his jeans, Dean tried to subtly adjust himself. He flushed when he caught Castiel watching him with a smirk.

Clearing his throat, Dean asked, “So, what did you think?”

Castiel pretended to take his time, hemming and hawing over his decision. “I suppose that it was acceptable. The crust was flaky and there seemed to be a good nut-to-filling ratio. I’ve been lead to believe that those are all positive attributes in a pie. But since I have no other experience to compare it, it was pleasant.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean rubbed his forehead. “Cas, buddy, I love you but I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a Vulcan.”

Castiel sat up ramrod straight, his eyes growing wide at Dean’s flippant remark. “Dean, I believe you know my feelings on the matter but...”

“Shit, no, no Cas. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean I wouldn’t- just- no. We’re just pretty close friends and sometimes people say that to their friends as a joke or to soften the blow of an insult,” Dean interrupted hurriedly as he realized his mistake. He rubbed his hand across his mouth. He never should have taken Castiel to his favorite diner so late at night. Especially not when Castiel looked so gorgeous in his concert clothes and Dean was trying desperately to hold on to his last remaining thread of heterosexuality. 

Castiel frowned at him, and it was not the usual small frown he made when he was thinking hard. No this was a real frown. Dean had done what he’d thought was impossible- he’d hurt Castiel’s feelings.

“Shit, Cas, please don’t look at me that way,” Dean begged, momentarily forgetting the pie sitting innocently between them. “You know that I-. Fuck, why is this so hard? You know I care about you right?”

He stared intently at Castiel until the other man nodded jerkily. “I just-. I mean, the way I feel towards you-.” With a groan, Dean buried his head in his hands. Why was this so hard?

As Dean took a few deep breaths, he felt a warm weight on his forearm. Glancing up anxiously, Dean’s heart ached in a way he would deny to his grave. Castiel had leaned over the table and his hand was soft and warm against Dean’s skin. Blue eyes watched him intensely but where Dean expected to see anger or hurt, he saw affection. 

“It’s okay, Dean, we have time,” Castiel whispered, his voice low and gruff, his thumb rubbing a soft pattern on Dean’s bicep. “We have time.”

Dean nodded mutely, his brain running on overload. Deep down, he knew exactly how he felt about Castiel but he couldn’t say it, not yet. 

“Here, have another bite of pie,” Castiel murmured, taking up the abandoned cutlery.

Without thinking, Dean leaned imperceptibly closer and took the offered bite from Castiel’s fork. The sweet, creamy and crunchy textures helped to ground him. With the same fork, Castiel scooped his own bite, humming softly in pleasure. 

For the next few minutes they sat in comfortable silence. Castiel continued to feed them both, alternating bites with the same fork until the pie was gone. Dean blinked down at the empty plate and his last bite, feeling almost as if he was breaking out of a trance. 

“Can I get you two cuties another slice?” The waitress asked with a knowing glance between them. Over time they had slowly gotten closer and closer, leaning towards each other until they were barely four inches apart. 

Feeling himself blush at the attention, Dean jolted back to sit against the back of his seat. “Um no- I think we’re okay,” he started, glancing at Castiel who just gave a small nod of confirmation. “We’ll take our check, though.”

“Is this going to be  _ together _ or separate?” She asked with extra emphasis on ‘together’. 

Castiel started to reply “They’ll be-”

“Together, please,” Dean insisted, already holding out his card.

As she left, Dean turned and rolled his eyes at the pout on Castiel’s face. “I told you already, Cas, this is my treat.”

“I believe that you will remember me initially telling you that this night was my idea and gift to you,” Castiel smoothly replied, raising a brow in challenge. 

“Welp,” Dean said with a big grin. “She already has my card, Cas, so what are you gonna do?”

“I suppose that I will just have to make sure that I get control of the payment situation next time,” Castiel hummed.

Dean raised a brow. “Next time, huh?”

Castiel leaned forward on his elbows, his face as serious as Dean had ever seen it, except for the glint in his eye. “Yes, Dean. There will be a next time.”

Shivers crawled up Dean’s spine at the confidence in that gravely, deep voice. “Can’t wait,” he admitted before standing up and pulling on his jacket. 

“Dean, she still has your card.”

Dean groaned at his own stupidity and collapsed back into the booth. “Fuck me, of course she does.”

Castiel smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, Dean, you should know that I don’t do that on the first date. I’m not  _ quite _ that easy.”

Dean groaned again, rolling his eyes fondly as he tried to softly kick Castiel’s shin. Instead, Castiel caught his foot between his calves and held it tight. Before Dean could grunt a comment, their waitress was back. 

“Here you go, boys, now you go have a fun rest of your night okay?” She winked, placed their receipt on the table and gave Dean’s shoulder a small pat. The whole time she was there, Castiel refused to let go of Dean’s foot, rubbing his calf along Dean’s as she spoke.

“Thank you, ma’am, we will,” Castiel replied confidently. As she tapped the table one last time and left, Castiel turned to beam mischievously at Dean who was flushed red from his ears to his neck. He rubbed Dean’s calf one last time as he asked, “You okay there Dean?”

Feeling tongue-tied, Dean nodded mutely. He knew that he should pull his leg away - hell, he was playing the most intense game of footsie ever - but damn he really didn’t want to pull away. Luckily, Castiel made the first move, letting his calf go and tapping Dean’s boot with the toe of his shoe one last time before standing up. It took Dean a second longer than he was proud of to get the message and scramble out of his seat, less than gracefully as he tripped over his own feet. 

“You sure you’re okay to drive there, Dean?” Castiel asked with a knowing grin once they exited the diner and made their way through the parking lot. 

Dean shot him a glare as he fished his keys out of pocket, an act made far more difficult by the fact that he was still half hard in his jeans. “No one drives Baby but me.”

Castiel just shrugged and made his way around to the passenger side of the Impala. “I thought the saying was ‘no one puts Baby in a corner’?”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Dean groaned. “Seriously? You can quote  _ Dirty Dancing, _ but you’ve never seen  _ Star Trek _ ?”

The Impala roared to life around them, the engine idling at a pleasant hum as Dean pulled out of their parking space and made towards the road. Castiel stared forward blankly, his mouth tugging into a small frown. “I’m afraid Mother had very specific requests before she died. Her first request, once she was diagnosed with cancer, was to watch Dirty Dancing once a week minimum. She loved that movie and said Swayze kept her young. When she was sent home from the hospital with hospice care until she died, I spent almost every afternoon in her bed watching that movie with her. Even through the heavy fog of the drugs they were giving her, she could quote along to all of her favorite scenes until the day she died.”

“Shit, I had no idea, man,” Dean said, glancing briefly over to his friend. Reaching over, Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder, unsure how else to show his sympathy and understanding. “I’m glad that you have those good memories with her though. I don’t remember much, but my mom had this lullaby she would sing to us each night, and then, as she tucked me in, she told me that angels were watching over me.”

Castiel leaned into the touch and hummed, still lost in his own memories. Dean pulled his hand from Castiel’s shoulder but left his hand resting next to him on the bench seat as he was taken back to his own memories. For a moment, the car was comfortably silent, the only sound the rumble of the Impala devouring the road beneath them. 

Without warning, Dean was jolted back to the present when he felt a hand slide over his. Castiel’s hand was pleasantly warm where Dean’s was cold as their fingers tangled together.

“Your mom was right you, know,” Castiel hummed, his thumb sliding across Dean’s. “You do have an angel watching over you.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath, desperately pushing down the tears that threatened to fall from the time spent thinking about his mother and the ache he always felt in his chest when he thought of her. “Yeah?” He finally asked a minute later. “Who’s that?”

Smiling fondly, Castiel scooted as far towards the middle of the seat as his seatbelt would let him, still holding tightly onto Dean’s hand. 

“I assumed that it was obvious, I was always surprised that you never asked me sooner,” Castiel whispered, his voice low and soft, yet filling the quiet car. “My parents were both raised very religiously. All of my siblings are named after specific Angels of the Lord. My own name is a variation on Cassiel who was an archangel. So as you can see, I am essentially an Angel, and I'm definitely doing my best to watch over you, Dean.”

Overcome with a conflicting mix of emotions, Dean could only nod. He was overcome with a flood of love and emotions towards the other man. But at the same time, he felt his parent’s presence in his head. He knew his father would disapprove but it was his mother that truly worried him. He had never been old enough to find out her opinion of homosexuality, or more specifically bisexuality, in his case. Even though she’d been gone for almost 20 years, his heart still hurt from worry that he’d disappoint her. He’d spent his entire life trying to make her proud of him, he couldn’t screw it up now. 

“Don’t get lost in there, Dean,” Castiel said, pulling Dean from his thoughts with a squeeze of his hand. 

Clearing his throat, Dean glanced down at where they were connected. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling now like he had another person that he didn’t want to disappoint. 

Even though Dean couldn’t see, Castiel shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Dean. I know that your family is a bit of a sensitive topic for you.”

Turning onto Castiel’s street, Dean nodded. “I just can’t help but worry what she would think of ... certain things.”

As he pulled into the parking lot of Castiel’s apartment complex, Castiel unbuckled his seat belt, turned to the side, and slid across the bench until he was practically pressed against Dean’s side. “Hey,” Castiel said, untangling their fingers so that he could rest his hand on Dean’s shoulder as the car came to a final stop in front of his building. “Dean.”

It took a minute for Dean to bite down on his emotions and unclick his own seatbelt. He wanted to turn and face Castiel, wanted that more than anything, but he couldn’t stop picturing his father’s disgusted face and the image he had created of what his mother might have looked like when similarly disappointed in him. The hand on his shoulder lifted and instead, two fingers were under his chin, gently lifting and guiding him until he was facing Castiel.

Castiel’s eyes were startlingly blue in the light from the streetlamp illuminating the Impala. Eyes still trained down, Dean mentally traced over the soft pink lips that had been haunting his dreams. The fingers under his chin were soft, warm, and gentle, yet firm. “Dean, look at me,” Castiel ordered, his voice soft, yet commanding. 

Dean fought down a shudder at that domineering tone and looked up to meet familiar, blue eyes. 

“I may not know everything that you have gone through and what all is feeding this anxiety. But I do know that your family loves you unconditionally. I know that Sam just wants to see his big brother happy for once. And I know that the negative things you’re telling yourself now are not true,” Castiel said firmly, his touching serving to continue to ground Dean in the present. 

Dean leaned closer, feeling almost as if he was in a trance at the firmness of Castiel’s kind words. His chest still ached, but now it was no longer from anxiety about his family, but from fighting down how desperately he wanted to kiss the other man. 

“You are so generous, hard working, and deserving of happiness.” Castiel paused, his thumb sliding up to brush across Dean’s bottom lip. “You are the best man I know, and you are worthy of everything I can offer you, and so much more. “

Biting back a small groan, Dean licked his lips, the tip of his tongue running over the tip of Castiel’s thumb, causing Castiel to gasp. 

“Dean,” Castiel started in a voice that was deeper and more gruff than Dean had ever heard. “Dean, please, can I kiss you?”

Sucking in a shallow breath, Dean made a small jerky nod. The corners of Castiel’s lips tugged up minutely as he let his fingers slide from under Dean’s chin to the nape of his neck, his thumb resting on the hinge of Dean’s jaw. Dean gulped in anticipation, trying to ignore the feeling of his heart skipping a beat. 

Moving so slowly and with intent, Castiel licked his lips as he closed the distance between them until their lips almost brushed. Dean kept expecting him to close the final distance but frustratingly, the other man refused to move.

Letting out a soft growl, Dean fisted his hand in the front of Castiel’s Zeppelin shirt and pulled. Their lips crashed together in a sloppy kiss, noses bumping awkwardly and teeth clashing. 

“No way is that going to be our first kiss,” Dean grunted. Castiel started to huff out a laugh but was quickly silenced when Dean wrapped his hand around the nape of Castiel’s neck, tangling his fingers in the short hairs there. “Come here,” he whispered. 

Gently this time, Dean pulled Castiel back in towards him. Their lips brushed, the touch barely there at first. Castiel sighed at the gentle slide of their lips and let his hand slide around to cup Dean’s cheek, gently guiding the kiss deeper. Castiel’s lips were soft and slightly chapped against Dean’s own.

Dean stifled a moan in his throat as the kiss deepened. Castiel’s tongue ran across the seam of his lips, sending shivers down Dean’s spine.The kiss was nothing like he’d ever expected or dreamed. It was different from kissing a woman, and nothing like his kiss with Benny in high school had been. The light stubble on Castiel’s face was rough under his touch and against his upper lip. Where it should have been a turn off for him, Dean felt every scratch against his skin send shocks of need down to below his belt. 

Dean turned in his seat, putting a bent leg up on the seat between them to steady himself. His right arm wrapped around Castiel’s waist, sliding under the warmth of his jacket. He tensed his fingers in the soft cotton at the small of Castiel’s back, trying to resist searching out bare skin instead as he pulled Castiel closer and deepened the kiss even further.

He tentatively licked along the seam of Castiel’s lips, asking for permission for more. Castiel opened his mouth with a happy hum, letting their tongues tangle as Dean tenderly explored his mouth. 

Dean couldn’t hold back a groan as the other man’s tongue slid against his. Castiel tasted of stale coffee and a hint of pecan pie and it was  _ perfect _ . Castiel let him explore and lead the kiss for a few moments before surging forward and hooking a leg over Dean’s lap and pushing him back against the seat. Castiel let out a low growl as he took control of the kiss and nipped at Dean’s lower lip. Dean whimpered, holding Castiel close in his lap and allowed himself to lose control for once. 

The kiss was hot and heady, sending a flood of arousal to his dick like no other simple kiss had before. He was aching in his pants and thought he could feel Castiel’s own erection pressing against his hip when he rocked forward. 

“Cas!” Dean gasped, pulled away to pant for air. Humming softly, Castiel pressed open mouth kisses across the line of his jaw and down his neck. The tip of his tongue traced patterns across his skin. “Oh fuck, Cas!”

Pressing a final kiss to Dean’s neck, Castiel leaned back to slide his palms up his thighs. “Come inside,” Castiel pleaded as he searched Dean’s face. 

“I thought you didn’t do that on first dates,” Dean teased as he nibbled and licked a kiss to Castiel’s Adam’s apple. “Thought you weren’t that easy.”

Arching his neck to give Dean more room, Castiel panted out his response. “Fuck it. Today I am exactly that easy for you Dean.”

With a small sigh, Dean leaned up and pressed a final kiss to Castiel’s lips. This time though, the kiss felt like a goodbye. 

“I can’t, Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean started, watching as Castiel’s lips pulled into a tight, disappointed line. He wanted more than anything to kiss that frown away, but he couldn’t. This was all happening too fast. “I’ve got to go back home to Sammy, and I just-”

“You’re not ready,” Castiel finished for him, his voice carefully even. He slid back a few inches and climbed off Dean’s lap to put a bit of space between them. 

Dean felt those inches between them like a vast space. He wanted nothing more than to pull Castiel back into his lap, to kiss him and rut against him until they came in their pants, right there in the Impala like a pair of teenagers. At the same time, his head was spinning and at some point during their kiss he’d begun hearing his father’s voice in his head, yelling at him and calling him a fag. He felt about one second away from a panic attack. 

Forcing the voices and panic back momentarily, Dean surged forward to kiss Castiel one last time. Castiel was so responsive to his touch, his body unconsciously leaning forward and his hands sliding up Dean’s thighs to grip him tightly. Dean was achingly hard when he finally forced himself to pull back. 

“I really should get home to Sam,” he panted. 

Castiel let his forehead fall forward against Dean’s as they breathed heavily, sharing air. “I know Dean,” Castiel replied, his voice kind and understanding. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Castiel pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek before sliding away. Dean felt the cold sense of loss like a vice gripping his chest. He watched Castiel straighten his clothes and move to open the door. He hated the way he felt as he watched Cas walk around the front of the Impala and towards the first staircase.

“Cas wait!” Dean cried, leaping out of the car and taking a step towards Cas so quickly that it surprised Cas, and even himself. Cas patiently stood at the bottom of the staircase, brow raised in confusion. He looked so thoroughly debauched and it made the uncomfortable feeling in Dean’s chest that much worse. “Thank you, um, thank you, for tonight. I think that was the nicest thing anyone but Sam has ever done for me.”

Castiel bowed his head momentarily, but when he looked up, he was smiling. “You’re very welcome, Dean. I just want you to remember that you are worth it and that when you are ready, I’ll be here for you.”

At that, Castiel turned to make his way upstairs. Dean watched, leaning back against the Impala as he tried to cool down enough to drive, something that was not made easier when Cas paused at the top of the first staircase and glanced back down at Dean. Huffing out a sigh, Dean turned to slide back into his Baby. 

He spared himself a glance in the rearview mirror and couldn’t help the small smile he made. His lips were swollen and deep red from Castiel’s kisses. His tongue flicked out and for a moment Dean would have sworn that he could still taste the other man. Dean’s hair was disheveled, the strands sticking up at odd ends from fingers that he imagined he could still feel. To top it all off there was a small dark red bruise forming just above his shirt collar. Dean placed a finger over the mark and couldn’t help the pang of arousal at the idea of Castiel marking him, possessing him. 

Turning on the Impala, Dean palmed his straining erection once before rearranging himself. He had to make it the 15 minute drive home and then, well it wouldn’t be the first time his thoughts had trailed to Cas when he took care of himself. And now, now that he actually knew what Cas tasted and felt like, it would be that much better. 

His last thought as he pulled out of the parking lot and into the empty streets was that Sammy better be asleep and in his room when he got home or Dean was going to hear about this for months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so colossally embarrassed. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments or come yell at me on tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths.


	7. Early November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!!! This chapter is brought to you by the Wifi and break time at my IOP! I hope you are all having a wonderful start to 2020. And what better way to continue that then more destiel! 
> 
> Thanks again to my lovely beta Arianllyn who makes sure that I remember that grammar is a thing that exists in this world!
> 
> Mild trigger warning for talk of PTSD and John's less than stellar parenting.
> 
> ***UPDATE: I fucked up when I posted chapters and forgot to post the REAL chapter 6. Please take a second to go back and read about our boys on their first date and maybe this chapter will make more sense. I'm so embarrassed and so colossaly sorry for the confusion. I love every one of you

Thursday’s were typically Dean’s least favorite day of the week. By that point, he was almost 50 hours into his work week and still had at least 12 more to go. It was almost dinner time, so the Roadhouse was slow, most of their customers either slunk out of the house post dinner, came straight from work before crawling home to their families, or waited until Friday to go out to eat. Still, there were a handful of tables filled and another sprinkling of customers around the bar to keep him busy while Jo finished her lunch break. 

He was deep into making a round of margaritas for a table that kept shooting less than subtle glances to all the men in the bar and another Jack and coke for one of their regulars. He knew he should have wanted to be at home but truth be told, Dean liked mixing drinks and interacting with the new and, usually a bit odd, clients that the Roadhouse attracted. He was still happy though, to hear Jo laughing with someone as he passed the drinks over to their waiter, and his friend, Ash.

“Thanks man,” he muttered as he handed the tray of margaritas. “Good luck too; they look like they may try to eat you alive.”

Ash grinned back, flicking back his mullet as he picked up the tray. “Let them try!”

Dean rolled his eyes fondly at his friend and went to pass his drink to the end of the bar. “Jo, get your ass back over here!”

“Hey Castiel!” Jo called happily, as she stopped in the middle of the bar. “You look like crap!”

“Very funny, it’s not Tuesday!” Dean called, without turning to look. He jumped slightly, turning quickly in the direction of the voice he knew so well. 

“Thank you, Joanna,” Castiel drawled, his voice showing his lack of amusement. 

Dean frowned when he saw Castiel hunched over the middle of the bar. While Dean was positive at this point that he would always find Castiel attractive, the other man  _ did _ look like crap. Castiel’s tie was hanging loosely, half undone, and askew. His normally perfectly pressed button down was wrinkled, and his trench coat was rumpled and partially hanging off his left shoulder. 

As Dean walked closer to his friend, he could see the dark circles under Castiel’s eyes, and the bags that indicated he probably hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days. Castiel normally kept himself clean shaven for work as well, but tonight, his stubble looked two days old at least. 

“Whiskey, please,” Castiel grumbled by way of greeting once Dean was in front of him. 

“Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” Dean teased, trying to get the other man to look a little less like someone had killed his puppy. “What’s got your panties in a wad?”

Castiel squinted up at Dean, brows furrowed in annoyance. “I’m sorry, I thought that this was an establishment that served alcohol. Was I mistaken, or do I just need to order from someone more capable?”

Dean frowned; this was not the Castiel that he knew. This Castiel was surly and curt, and there didn’t appear to be a single spark in those blue eyes. “Fine, I’ll get you a drink,” Dean replied, trying to keep his tone neutral. “Do you have a brand preference?”

Cas huffed out a sigh of annoyance. “Whichever is closest to you will suffice.”

Dean glanced behind him to where they displayed their nicer end scotch. “Dude, this scotch is like 25 bucks a glass.” When he turned around, Castiel was bent over the counter, his head in his hands.

“Make it a double, neat,” was Castiel’s only reply.

Still trying to keep his cool, Dean turned to pour his friend’s drink. Before he turned around, he typed his order in their system and poured himself a beer. “Hey Jo, I’m taking lunch,” he called to where Jo was working at the other end of the bar. She gave him a thumbs-up. 

“Come on, lets go,” Dean said, cocking his head towards one of the booths in the corner. Castiel just stared blankly at him, his eyes still furrowed into the familiar squint.

When Dean was halfway to the corner booth, he stopped and turned to look behind him, but beyond that, hadn’t moved. “Seriously, Cas, you want that drink, it’s going to be over at this table with me.” He set the glasses down hard to emphasize his point. 

Castiel huffed, reminding Dean of a cranky toddler, as he made his way through the tables to the nice corner booth that Dean had picked. Letting out a final sigh, Castiel slid into the booth across from Dean.

Pushing Castiel’s scotch across the table, Dean took a small sip of his own beer. “So, I may not be good for much but I know all about not talking about your feelings, man,” Dean started, sliding his fingers through the condensation on his beer. “I practically invented it, but,” he paused, dipping his head to try and catch Castiel’s eyes. “But, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Grunting, Cas took a long drink of his scotch and Dean was struck once again by how oddly his friend was acting. Before they could end up in an uncomfortable silence, two plates were plopped down in front of them. 

“Well, this is uncomfortable,” Ash muttered, lingering to watch the two of them. 

“He’s just having a rough day,” Dean said, giving a jerk of his head to tell Ash to get lost. 

Ash held his hands up in defense, as he took a step back. “Okay, man; I’m going, I’m going.”

“Sorry about him,” Dean mumbled, as he pulled his burger toward himself. He had ordered one for each of them when he saw Castiel’s mood. There was nothing a good cheeseburger couldn’t cure. 

“Eat up.”

Castiel looked at the burger in front of him hesitantly, but pulled the plate closer. Dean had to fight back a chuckle when Cas took the top bun off his burger and leaned forward to inspect it. 

“Dude, it’s just a cheeseburger,” Dean said, as he picked up his own. “You’ve had a cheeseburger before, right?”

Castiel actually scoffed at that before picking up his own burger and taking a large bite. He raised his brow in challenge.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you’re the burger master,” Dean grumbled and took a bite of his own.

Castiel finally smiled at that. “I have had burgers before, Dean. So many, in fact, that I know that they are not all equal. Pardon me for asking questions first, instead of your blind faith.”

Dean choked down his bite, taking a sip of his beer to clear his throat. “Well then, Mr. Detective, how is your burger?”

Castiel quirked a brow. “I’ll let you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean went back to eating, but this time, there was a comfortable, companionable silence between them. They shared furtive glances, one usually watching the other until they got caught and glanced away. If Dean had watched another table acting that way he would have laughed. 

“Okay,” Dean said, once they were both finished, and Castiel was snacking on his fries. “What’s the verdict?

“The burgers here make me very happy,” Castiel said, somberly, as he reached for his almost empty glass. “I don’t suppose the service here would be good enough to fetch me another glass of scotch?” he asked with a smirk as he knocked the rest back. 

Rolling his eyes once again, Dean stood, and grabbed the empty tumbler. “Fine, I’ll get you another but when I get back, you start talking.”

He took Castiel’s slow nod for agreement and made his way across the floor and back to behind the bar. 

“How’s it going, Romeo?” Jo asked, with a flip of her blonde ponytail. She was making a martini with skill and ease, looking like a true professional even as she turned her attention to Dean. 

“I’m ignoring you,” Dean groused, before reaching for the bottle of scotch. 

“Oh, come on, Winchester, you adore me  _ and _ I have those handmade cards Bobby made you make for Valentine’s Day when you were nine to prove it.”

“For the love of God, please, burn those and then salt and burn the ashes,” Dean groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “If you must know, it’s not going great. There’s something really bothering him, and it’s starting to worry me.”

Jo looked at him with her big, kind eyes and placed a hand on his bicep. “He’ll come around, Dean. Just be patient with him. He obviously trusts you and values your opinion, or he wouldn’t be here.” 

“When’d you get all grown up and smart?” Dean teased, trying to lighten the mood as he filled Castiel’s glass. Jo simply looked at him, her face clearly indicating that she was not taking any of his shit. “Okay, fine. I’ll be patient with him; thank you, Jo.”

“You’re welcome Dean-o,” she preened. 

“Ugh, whatever,” Dean grumbled as he made his way back over to their table. 

Castiel never looked up from staring morosely at his almost empty plate of fries. He simply grunted his thanks when Dean slid the beverage in front of him.

“Okay, man,” Dean started as he slid back onto his side of the booth. “You have to give me at least a  _ clue _ about what’s going on here.”

Castiel let out a deep sigh. “It’s this day. I get… unpleasant every year.” 

Dean racked his brain, trying to remember if the day was anything special. “Uh, you just really hate Thursdays in November?” Dean felt himself shrink back into his seat at the intensity of Castiel’s glare at him. 

“Today is Veterans’ Day,” he explained after a pregnant pause.

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Dean said, still not understanding what could be upsetting Cas about Veterans’ Day. “My old man was a Marine, I should’ve remembered.”

Cas simply grunted in acknowledgment. After another long pause, Dean decided to just keep talking, to try and pull his friend out of his own head. 

“So, I think I told you about how he retired about the same time he met my mom. I obviously wasn’t around back then, but, from Bobby’s stories, he never let what he’d seen get to him, not until mom- well, you know. The fire. He was a changed man after that night. Sure, there was the drinking but what I remember most were the drills. I think I was about seven years old when he started my ‘training’. It’s also about the time that he decided we should know all about the war. He was in Operation Desert Storm and completed two tours overseas before he got out.

“I could probably tell as many stories about life in the Marines while in the Gulf as any actual veteran that fought there. The things he would tell us while he taught us to fight.” Dean shook his head. He fell quiet, momentarily staring into his warm beer as memories washed over him. Castiel was still staring at his cold fries but his eyes flicked up and caught Dean’s for a beat.

Dean cleared his throat and started again. “I got the worst of it, because I was the oldest and because somehow I was able to convince him to leave Sam out of it, because he was too young. I kept the kid safe for the better part of three years. Anyway, Dad would get me up at five before school every morning, so he could run me through the drills that he remembered from basic. 

“When I turned twelve, the drills got worse and more intense. Then, he decided that I had to learn weapons safety and training at night when he got home from work. I’m not sure I’ve ever been as afraid as I was that first night when he called me down into the basement after I finished making dinner. Well, making dinner for Sam and myself, while Dad had his liquid dinner. I went downstairs and saw a long table full of knives, machetes, and more guns than I’d ever seen, with my drunk father handling the handguns and shotguns. I really thought, for a moment, that he was going to kill me right there.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh. “I’m pretty sure I can still disassemble a shotgun in about two seconds and a handgun in one.

“Anyway, he had me running drills and learning to fist fight in the mornings before school, and completing weapons training in the evenings. Not that his drunk ass ever cared that I had schoolwork to do or that someone had to take care of Sam.

“We went to live with Bobby around the time that I was fifteen because dad couldn’t hold down a job any more. Bobby put a real quick stop to the five-in-the-morning drills, and spending all night with firearms, as soon as he found out. He was strict as hell about our school work getting done. I was actually pretty angry with him about that for a while. I was good at taking care of Sam and was terrible at school at that point, and I guess I didn’t feel needed any more. I took that anger out at school, getting in more than my fair share of fights. At least I won them all. 

“Anyway, I’m getting off track. So, like I said, the daily drills stopped but during the weekends? Dad would drag me into the woods behind the house each morning for ‘survival training’. Apparently, dropping me in the woods and locking me out of the house all day with just a machete and a canteen, and then getting too drunk to remember where I was counted as ‘survival training’. 

“I guess that’s why I don’t really remember Veterans’ Day. With the way dad carried on until the day he died, every day was Veterans’ Day. But if you ever get lost in the woods, I’m your guy.”

Dean took a long pull of his beer, not caring that it had long since gone flat and warm. His nerves were raw and he felt rundown. He’d never shared that part of his life with anyone but Sam and Bobby.

Cas looked at him for a moment. His knuckles were turning white as he gripped the tumbler. Taking a deep breath, Cas turned to stare at the wall past Dean’s head. “I -ehm- I was in the Air Force,” he muttered

“Dude, you’re going to have to speak up a little because it sounded like you just said you were in the Air Force,” Dean said with a grin. 

Cas glowered, at Dean. “I was a Technical Sergeant in the United States Air Force, 98th Pararescue Unit.”

“Fuck me.”

“I believe that offer is not necessarily on the table right now Dean. However, I would be very interested at another time,” Castiel said, his brow furrowed as he squinted at Dean. 

Dean huffed a laugh. “No, I meant - I was trying to tell you that I was surprised. It’s an expression people use.”

“Oh, I knew that,” Cas frowned as he considered the new information. “Well, either way, now you know.”

“I can’t believe that you haven’t told me this before, Cas,” Dean said, feeling a little offended by being left out.

“I don’t actually tell anyone,” Castiel stated. “Ever.”

“Dude why not? Apparently you’re a secret badass. That’s hot,” Dean said. Castiel raised a brow at him. “Shut up, it is. Can you tell me more about it? Why don’t you like Veterans’ Day?”

Castiel sighed and took a long drink of his scotch before answering. “I enlisted in the Air Force when I was eighteen. Father was a retired Army Captain, and had always wanted at least one of his children to serve. I had been under the command of my father and Michael for so long, it just made sense.

“Unfortunately, I enlisted during a time of war. I excelled in basic training, and the further training to join the pararescue unit. I was quickly promoted to Airman and then Airman First Class. Apparently, I had inherited my father’s knack for commanding the best from people.

“My first enlistment was in Afghanistan. I was there, on and off, for the better part of four years. I had nothing to come home to, so I was quick to sign on for another tour. Being there, and part of the pararescuers, gave me purpose for the first time. 

“There were some,” Castiel paused as he searched for the right word, “tragedies that occurred among my men over there. Apparently, the wayI handled them got me noticed, and soon I was promoted to Staff Sergeant and then, finally, right before I left, Technical Sergeant. They all expected me to go career, but after what happened- after the last mission I couldn’t. I had to leave.”

Castiel took another long drink and stared quietly down at the remaining amber liquid. When he stayed silent, Dean figured that he was free to ask questions.

“Cas, you sound like a fucking hero. Why don’t you tell more people?”

With a long sigh, Cas leaned back in his seat and looked at the wall behind Dean’s head. 

“As pararescue, we jumped into some of the most gruesome and heart-wrenching of situations. The things that I saw there, Dean, I can never forget. There are some things that just never leave you. I should know, I’ve tried everything.” Cas huffed a humorless laugh. 

“Sure the therapist the VA set me up with has helped with the PTSD over the past few years but I still have my fair share of nightmares. But you know what? At the end of the day I know that I’m the lucky one. My friends died over there, Dean. Yeah, a handful from our unit survived but at what cost? Andrew lost his leg. Kelsey caught shrapnel in her back that nearly severed her spine. Wilson can’t live alone, let alone work.

“Those are the real heroes Dean. I may have my fair share of demons from the war but who am I to ask for praise or thanks compared to that?”

“Cas, listen to me,” Dean insisted, laying a hand over Castiel’s. “You are a warrior, and a badass, and you are so fucking worthy that you could probably lift Mjolnir.” 

Castiel looked at him blankly. 

“Okay never mind, that’s not important. The important thing is that you understand how incredibly admirable you are and how worthy of a little recognition you are. You deserve thanks for your service from everyone here in this bar. I’ll admit, most of my knowledge is based on the Marines, but I know enough to know that your rank alone in such a short time suggests that you did incredible things.”

Castiel was still watching him with that same slightly confused expression. “Dean, I did unspeakable things over there. I wish I could explain to you, but that’s why I do not mention my service or talk about it. I can’t-”

“Okay, I get it, Cas. I really do,” Dean said, interrupting as he leaned forward and rubbed his thumb over the back of Castiel’s hand. “Is that why you hate Veterans’ Day?”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “I… I don’t like being reminded of the things I did, or the people that I miss. If people knew, then they would ask, and I can’t.”

“Well, then, I’m incredibly touched and honored that you trusted me enough to tell me,” Dean said, his voice low as he struggled not to choke over his emotions. He felt the familiar clenching in his gut at the idea of Cas trusting him enough to tell him something that he rarely shared.

Cas turned his hand over and caught Dean’s fingers with his own. As they sat there in a comfortable silence, Dean marveled at how the man across from him could be a sweet, caring (if slightly grouchy), respectable English teacher and then also be this incredible soldier, warrior, and commander of men. It was an extreme juxtaposition, but at the same time, it sort of made sense. Castiel had always had a quiet sense of strength about him; and it sure explained how his authoritative voice made Dean want to drop to his knees without a second thought.

Dean raised his glass in a toast. “Well then, whoever you are, and whatever you’ve done, you, Castiel Novak, are important to me just because of who you are.”

Castiel’s mouth curled into a small smile and he raised his own glass to clink against Dean’s. “Thank you Dean.”

“Any time man.” The sound of glass shattering across the room caught Dean’s attention. When he caught sight of the clock his stomach lurched. “Okay I’ve been on lunch break for at least twice as long as I should’ve been. I gotta go back to work but please, stay as long as you’d like. I’ll send Ash over to check on you, periodically, but I’m keeping an eye on the booze man.” Dean rapped his knuckles on the table as he stood and cleared their empty plates. “Come get me if you need anything, okay, Cas?”

Castiel nodded and watched Dean walk away. He stayed late into the night, nursing one final drink for the last few hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am by no means an expert on military or weapons training. I did my research for Cas but I apologize for any inaccuracies that may have occurred. I did my best to do him and any veterans justice. 
> 
> Please feel free to drop me a comment and let me know what you think! Comments and kudos give me life!


	8. End of November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case you didn't see it on the other chapter, I fucked up and skipped posting chapter 6. Please take a second to go back and read it before you continue. I promise you'll like it and it's really important for Dean's development. 
> 
> That being said, please enjoy a bonus chapter this week to make up for the fact that I am an idiot.

It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and the Roadhouse was busier than normal. Families were starting to trickle into town before the holiday, and, where there was family, there was drinking. Even Ellen, their fearless owner and Jo’s mother, was helping run back and forth between the bar and tables. 

“Dean, I’ve got an order for a rum and coke, a whiskey sour, and two shots of Fireball,” Ellen called from across the bar as she passed over the written order.

“God, who actually drinks Fireball?” Dean grumbled as he reviewed the list. 

“Beats the hell out of me,” Jo called as she passed by to deliver a few drinks.

They were too busy to notice the new person at the practically full bar until he cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, man, I didn’t see you there,” Dean started, turning around. “Oh, shit, hey Cas. I didn’t expect to see you this week. I figured that you’d be with family.”

“Give me a double of Maker’s Mark, neat,” Cas grunted. He was hunched over the bar and looked exhausted. The last time Dean saw him looking this bad was Veterans’ Day, at least, thankfully, he didn’t have that same haunted look in his eyes now.

“You sure about that?” Dean asked, reaching for a glass. 

Cas just glowered at him. “Today was the last school day before the holiday; I am positive.”

Dean nodded and poured his drink. “Alright, here you go.” 

As soon as the bourbon was set in front of him, Cas downed it in one long swallow. He gasped, as he placed the now empty glass back on the bar top. “Another, please,” Castiel said, his voice deep and scratchy from the burn of the alcohol. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Dean asked as he picked the glass back up.

“I have to go home and see my family tomorrow. I’m often able to avoid them for most holidays, but, apparently Father is determined to have his family together this Thanksgiving,” Cas replied, the dread in his voice clear. 

“Family can be great, sometimes,” Dean said as he passed back a full glass. “Take this one a little slower for me, okay?”

Castiel scoffed at the idea before taking a sip. “My family has never been known to be  _ enjoyable, _ Dean.”

Dean held up a finger, putting their conversation on pause so he could move around to other customers who were indicating at their own empty glasses. Castiel watched in mild fascination, as Dean and Jo moved elegantly around each other in a well choreographed dance that clearly came from years of practice. 

About 15 minutes later, Dean finally came to a stop in front of him. “Okay, where were we? Family, that’s right. I can empathize with you, I had about fourteen years of miserable holidays after mom died, before dad just stopped coming around.

“Nothing like a holiday made up of TV dinners that a nine year old had to re-heat and try not to burn. I’ll never forget the Thanksgiving when I was eight years old. I had just started taking on all of the cooking for the family,” Dean said, smiling a little at the annoyed frown Cas made at the idea. “It was my first ever holiday to cook and I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to make the whole meal, you know? Turkey, potatoes, veggies, and pie; all of that shit.

“I bought a rotisserie chicken, a bunch of potatoes, and a can of green beans. I even got a frozen apple pie so it could be just like it was with mom. I didn’t know how to serve the chicken, so I tried to carve it up with a knife, and ended up just cutting my thumb. I’m lucky I didn’t need stitches, but there was blood everywhere, including on part of the chicken. I also had no idea that I was supposed to strain or heat up the can of green beans so they were cold and soupy.

“The potatoes were supposed to be microwaved; I don’t know what happened but they exploded in the microwave. If that wasn't bad enough, I somehow managed to burn the crust of the pie, while keeping the center ice cold.”

“That sounds like quite the meal,” Castiel said, with a huff of laughter. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, suddenly serious. “Dad tore me a new one that night and busted my ass. Apparently, it didn’t matter how hard I tried or that I was only eight fucking years old. Whatever, so, I get it Cas. Family holidays can suck.” 

Castiel nodded and took a long drink from his mostly empty glass. “That does sound truly terrible. But now you see my point, family gatherings are pedantic and simply meant to pander to nostalgic ideals.”

It was Dean’s turn to bark out a laugh, the sound quickly getting lost in the din of the restaurant. “I’ve got to make some drinks but when I come back, I’ll get you a new drink and tell you why you’re wrong.”

Once again, Castiel pulled a face while he watched Dean walk away. He preferred to have Dean all to himself like he did most Tuesday nights but it was fun to watch him interacting so well with others. He could flirt with and charm anyone; it was intriguing but also left a sour feeling in his gut that felt suspiciously like jealousy. Castiel could not pinpoint the last time he’d actually felt jealous of a partner, or whatever Dean was, but he was sure that he did not like it. Pulling his eyes away, Castiel instead focused on the liquid in his glass then downed the last dregs in a weak attempt to drown the sensation.

When Dean returned, he plunked down a new drink in front of Cas.”What is this?” Castiel asked, looking curiously at the murky liquid. 

“I’m cutting you off the straight shots,” Dean explained, softening the blow with his most charming smile. “It’s a whiskey sour, try it.”

He chuckled as Castiel picked up the glass and gave it a delicate sniff. Dean felt almost entranced as he watched Cas take a small sip, watching the way his throat moved as he swallowed. Cas licked his lips as he pulled away and all Dean could think for a moment was how badly he wanted to chase that tongue, to be the one to lick the sweet and sour liquid from those lips. 

“It’s good,” Castiel said after a long moment of thought. He took another sip, before smiling up at Dean. “It’s quite good.”

As Cas spoke, Dean realized how far over the counter he had leaned. “I knew you’d like it,” Dean said after clearing his throat. He stood up straight, putting a little more distance between them and rapping his knuckles on the bar. “So, you were saying that family gatherings are never a good thing.”

“Correct,” Cas grumbled, sounding like a petulant child.

Jo called Dean’s name and waved a new ticket in the air. Dean hung his head momentarily and sighed. “Okay, when I get back, I’ll explain to you how wrong you are.”

“I look forward to it.”

The next hour passed in pretty much the same way. Whenever possible, Dean would spare a glance to see how Castiel was doing and on occasion he was able to stop by to share a word or two. Castiel was starting to look brighter than he’d when he walked in the door. He sat a little straighter, his eyes were a little brighter, and his cheeks were lightly flushed from the drink. On rare instances, he would even have a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was a good look on him. 

“Fucking finally, a minute to pause and take a breath,” Dean groaned, leaning heavily forward on his elbows. It was after 9:00 and he knew that people would slowly start to filter out soon. 

“I don’t know,” Castiel drawled. “I could probably use a new drink.”

Dean’s mouth hung open in mock hurt. “Even you Brutus?”

“Even me,” Castiel said with a grin.

Huffing dramatically, Dean turned and began making a new whiskey sour. He couldn’t actually be mad though, he would do almost anything to keep Castiel happy and that was starting to worry him. 

“Okay here,” Dean said as he sat the drink down and took away the old, empty glass. “Now I’m going to tell you how family can be a good thing. No, don’t give me that look; just listen. Our holidays are actually awesome now. Sometimes, it’s just Sam, Bobby and me, - which is great don’t get me wrong. Most of my favorite events though, happen when we go over to Ellen and Jo’s place. Ash is usually there, as well. We may not be blood but I couldn’t ask for a better family. It doesn’t hurt that Ellen is just about the best damn cook in the state. That’s where we’re going Thursday and I can’t wait. So you see, family doesn’t have to be all bad.”

“As charming as that sounds Dean, I can assure you that a Novak family gathering is essentially Hell on Earth,” Cas said, as he stared into his glass like it would give him advice. He suddenly looked as down as he had when he came in, and the spark in his eyes was gone. 

“Father is distant, even when you can actually get him in the room. He has very high expectations of his children and if you aren’t living up to them, he will let you know. Let’s just say that he’s not thrilled with my current profession. Michael wants nothing more than to please Father. And honestly? He’s a self-righteous dick. 

“Anna is next in line. She’s been trying to do her own thing, and stay away from Father and Michael’s influence, but she’s been struggling. She’s quick to speak her mind though, which means we spend more time arguing than not. Finally, we have Gabriel.” Castiel sighed, as though he needed strength to even consider his brother.

“Gabriel has been acting out since the time he could speak. He’s always ready to cause a commotion just because he can and he considers himself a trickster. At age sixteen he was sent to boarding school, because Michael deemed him too much to handle. I swear that boarding school simply taught him new tricks and sent him back worse than ever.

“Now can you imagine getting all of these… characters in a room together and expect anything but chaos?”

Dean let out a low whistle and brushed his fingers against Castiel’s where they rested on his glass. “Okay, I get it. That sounds like a shit storm waiting to happen.”

The moment was quickly over as another string of orders came in. Dean moved away but as he poured, mixed, and shook, he couldn’t get his mind off what Castiel had told him. He hated the idea of Castiel being in such a terrible situation for his holiday. He wanted nothing more than to invite Cas over to spend his holiday with Dean’s chosen family but he couldn’t.

At this point Sam knew that Dean was on friendly terms with his teacher but Dean had been hiding just how close they had become. As far as Sam knew, Dean had seen Mr. Novak only at school events and then once or twice at the bar. He was stubbornly keeping the fact that Cas came to see him at work every Tuesday and that they texted regularly, quiet. Sam was under the impression that Dean was in the beginning of a relationship with a woman he’d met at the bar. Just the idea of breaking down his carefully created facade made his stomach lurch and his heart begin to race. He didn’t know what the beginnings of a panic attack felt like, but he was pretty sure this was it.

“Now you’re the one who looks like crap,” Castiel said when Dean came back almost 45 minutes later. The bar was finally starting to clear out. Castiel chewed on the end of a small plastic stirring stick that he’d asked Jo to swipe from a container on the shelf under the bar top, his lips curled into a happy smile. 

“Gee, thanks,” Dean drawled, leaning forward on his elbows to rest for a minute.

“No, no,” Cas insisted, grasping Dean’s left bicep with his free hand. “I was making a humorous jest. You do not look like crap. In actuality, you are incredibly handsome, so much that I find it a little distracting at times. That’s what makes it funny.”

Dean’s jaw hung in surprise, his heart skipping a beat or two. Castiel was complimenting him outright, in the middle of the Roadhouse. Sure, he was a little tipsy, but Dean could tell that he emphatically meant every word. 

“I, uh-” Dean stammered, his eyes flicking down to where Castiel was sucking on the end of the small straw. “Well shit, thanks, Cas.” He quickly shot a look down each side of the bar. The seats nearby had cleared out and the rest of the restaurant was causing enough noise that no one could hear. “You’re pretty attractive, yourself.”

“Dean, may I have another drink please?” Cas said, changing subjects abruptly. 

“Sure, buddy.” Dean turned, telling his damn heart to calm down as he poured, muddled and mixed. Cas had recently moved on to drinking Old Fashioneds. 

When he turned around, he almost dropped the glass. Castiel was watching him with a heated gaze, and as Dean stepped forward to set down his new drink, Cas popped the new maraschino cherry into his mouth. His lips wrapped around the red fruit as he plucked off the stem. Dean’s eyes flicked down to watch his throat shift as he swallowed, hard. 

Dean glanced back up and met those intensely blue eyes. Never breaking eye contact, Castiel tangled his tongue around the stem. Dean felt his heart hammer in his chest, fighting the urge to glance down at Castiel’s lips. After the longest minute of Dean’s life, the cherry stem poked out from between Castiel’s lips. The other man had tied it into a perfect knot and Dean was pretty sure he was about to have a heart attack. 

Cas watched him with a pleased look as he picked the stem up and held it out to Dean in offering. As Dean accepted it, he felt a steady pang of desire in his gut. He knew what that tongue was capable of after their kiss last month, but this? This was something else and his traitorous brain couldn’t stop imagining what that talented tongue could do to his cock. 

“Um, I should go check on the other patrons real fast,” Dean gasped once he finally felt capable of words. “Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna go do. Yup.”

Watching him go, Castiel smirked to himself. The bar continued to clear out as the clock hit 11:00. Every time that Dean stopped by Castiel’s seat, the other man would touch him. Castiel had traced patterns against his palm, brushed a stray hair off Dean’s forehead, gripped his arm firmly, and caressed his jaw. The touches never lasted long but they were more than enough to get Dean’s heart racing and send new pangs of arousal through his body.

Dean was half hard, and had been for the last half hour, when he stopped back in front of Cas. “You still doing okay over here?”

Castiel let his eyes slowly drag down Dean’s frame as he pretended to consider the question. “I think I’d like a beer. Get me a pilsner that you serve in the bottle, please. I don’t need a glass.”

Anxious about what new tricks Castiel might be up to, Dean turned to crouch down in front of the coolers. If he took his time to catch his breath while he was there, who could blame him? Finally, Dean pulled out a bottle and straightened up to his full height. “Alright, here you go man. Maybe consider cutting yourself off after this.”

Cas hummed in response before lifting the bottle to his lips. Once again, Dean couldn’t help but watch the long lines of his throat as he swallowed. Then, because Castiel was apparently trying to kill him, Cas held the bottle up and licked up the neck to chase an errant drop. 

Dean bit back a low groan at the sight. His mind immediately transforming the sight into a mental image of Cas kneeling between his knees and licking his dick just qw he had that bottle. He was one move away from hauling Castiel out to the Impala and having his way with him. 

“That is pleasant,” Cas muttered. His voice had gotten steadily deeper and rougher as the night progressed, which was  _ really _ not helping Dean’s situation. 

“I’m glad,” Dean gasped out, cringing at how breathy he sounded. He had less than an hour left in his shift, he could do this.

“Tell me, Dean,” Castiel growled. “What time tonight will you get off?”

Cursing the double entendre, Dean ran a hand down his face. “My shift is over at midnight.”

Castiel picked at the label on the bottle as he considered the information. “I don’t suppose you have any plans …after?”

Dean whimpered quietly, his mind racing. He wanted nothing more than to go home with Castiel and see where the night could take them. He’d been hard for the better part of a half hour and he was dying for release. But, on the other hand, Castiel was drunk. He’d consumed more than his share of booze and Dean knew there was no way the other man was thinking clearly. 

“Cas, buddy,” Dean started, mustering up all of his willpower. “I appreciate the offer - Christ, do I. But you’re drunk, and your judgment is compromised. I will not be the one who takes advantage of you like this. Let me call you a cab.”

Letting out a disappointed huff, Cas leaned closer and bit his lip. “I’d rather you take me home, Dean.”

“God, you are not making this easy for me.” Dean let his head hang momentarily and took a deep breath. “Cas, there is nothing I would rather do than take you home and see where this goes, but I can’t. You’ll thank me, tomorrow. Now hold on, I’m going to call a taxi to take you home.”

Castiel pouted like a petulant child as he watched Dean on the phone. He squinted up at Dean when he came back a few minutes later. 

“The taxi will be here in fifteen minutes. That’s plenty of time for you to finish your beer.”

“Don’t be surprised when my tip is not what you’d expect it to be,” Cas grumbled. 

“I wish I could take a video of you right now,” Dean replied with a barking laugh. “It would make excellent blackmail material.”

Cas mumbled what was surely a scathing response, before shuffling off to find the restroom. 

“Did I just hear him ask you to go home with him?” Ash asked, leaning with his hip against the bar. 

When the fuck he’d shown up and how much he might have heard, Dean didn’t know. He quickly went into panic and self preservation mode. “Dude, I know, right? I like the guy as a friend so I turned him down gently but still.”

“Who would ever think that you were gay?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and tried to keep his casual, calm demeanor. “Beats the hell out of me. The guy is pretty sloshed though, so I don’t think he was thinking clearly.”

“Oh, hello, Ash,” Castiel said, interrupting whatever crass response Ash might have had. 

Still, Ash sent a knowing smirk to Dean as he spoke. “Hey Castiel, having a nice night?”

“It has become much more pleasurable,” Castiel replied, his mouth tight, as he looked between the two men and tried to figure out what he’d walked in on. “Dean has done a considerable job cheering me up.”

Dean wanted desperately to hit Ash when he tipped his head back and laughed. “Thanks, Cas. Now don’t you have some actual serving to do, Ash?” He gave a small jerk of his head, signaling Ash to leave. 

“Fine, I get it. I don’t want to be the third wheel anyways.”

Dean glowered. “Fuck off, man.”

Ash feigned hurt and clutched his chest in disbelief. “Such words!” Laughing softly to himself, Ash turned and went to check on his remaining tables. 

“I’m afraid I missed something.” Castiel frowned up at Dean and waited for an explanation that Dean desperately didn’t want to give. 

“Ash uh- he apparently overheard you asking me to come home with you,” Dean replied, hunching forward over the bar and dropping his voice. “You’ve got to be a little more careful man.”

“I know you are ashamed of your attraction to me, Dean, but I am not ashamed of how I feel about you.” Castiel looked disappointed as he spoke and it made Dean’s chest hurt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe that my ride is here. What do I owe you?”

“Don’t leave like this Cas,” Dean begged. He wanted to do whatever it took to win Castiel’s trust back but he was so damn scared. 

“How much, Dean?”

“Fuck, fine!” Dean growled before turning to check his tab on the point of sale system. “It’s $78.36.”

Castiel nodded once before pulling out his wallet. He pulled out a small stack of bills and slapped them forcefully onto the counter. “That should be ninety dollars. Please keep the change for a tip. Now, I really should get outside before my cab leaves.”

Without thinking, Dean reached out to grasp Castiel’s forearm. “Please, Cas, you know how bad I want you. I’ve been on edge all night from the shit you’ve been doing,” Dean said, his voice barely audible over the dull noise of the bar. “I don’t know what I’m doing here okay? Just- give me some time.”

Castiel let out a sigh, finally turning to catch Dean’s eye. “I know Dean. I told you I would wait and I meant it. I just do not care to be made fun of, especially by someone with a  _ mullet _ .”

“Call me when you get home, so I know you’re safe?”

Castiel nodded once before he pulled free of Dean’s grip. As he watched the other man walk to the door, Dean felt a hollow feeling in his chest. 

The next fifteen minutes felt like an eternity as Dean wiped down the same spot on the counter. Their patrons had mostly trickled home. There was one couple left at the bar and only a handful of tables left occupied. Essentially, he was left with way too much free time to think. 

“Okay, time to get out of my sight, Winchester,” a husky voice said. Dean was startled when he turned and found Ellen smiling kindly up at him. 

“I still have seventeen minutes left in my shift,” Dean replied dumbly. 

“Boy, do you think I don’t know that? It’s a holiday week, go home and get some rest. I need you rested and ready to help me make pie on Thursday.” 

“Fuck, okay, if you’re sure?” Dean started before Ellen silences him with a look. 

“Do I ever say things I don’t mean?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip. Dean gave a silent shake of his head. “Damn straight. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and have you work late.”

“Okay, okay, let me close out my register and then I’m out of here,” Dean said, holding his hands in surrender as he backed towards his register. 

“You have two minutes,” Ellen called, before rushing off to take care of another problem. 

Letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Dean hurriedly closed out his account on their system. It felt good though, when just a few minutes later he was ducking out the back door and making his way to his Baby. As he got in and brought the engine to life, he tried not to think about the fact that Castiel had yet to call him. 

XX

The house was quiet and still when he got home. The lights were all off, except in the entrance hall. Sam must have crashed early; he’d been working and studying for his midterms non-stop for the past two weeks. Now that they were over, it made sense that all that work had caught up with him. 

Dean crouched to unlace his boots before toeing them off by the front door. He was shucking his overshirt by the time he reached the foot of the stairs, and had his pants unbuckled by the time he opened the door to his room. He tossed his cellphone onto the bed before kicking off his jeans and yanking off his T-shirt. 

With a sigh, Dean flopped backwards onto his bed. This was often his favorite part of the day, when he finally got to be alone and enjoy a minute or two of quiet. The only trouble was, this time when Dean closed his eyes, he saw Castiel. Castiel smiling up at him. Castiel licking the neck of a beer bottle. Castiel asking Dean to come home with him. 

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. His erection had finally gone away after the confrontation with Ash, but with just a quick thought of Cas, Dean felt his cock filling in his boxer briefs. “Fuck it.”

Deciding that he had earned it for putting up with Castiel’s teasing ministrations all night, Dean snaked his hand down his chest. Already too aroused to need much foreplay, Dean cupped himself through the thin cotton. He could feel himself hardening with just the slightest pressure. 

With a soft exhalation of air, Dean slid his hand under the elastic. His hand was rough and calloused against the velvety skin of his cock, while his other hand traced patterns over his bare chest, thumb occasionally flicking over his nipples. The feeling sent a spark of pleasure through him and caused a shiver to run down his spine. 

Just as he was completely hard and aching under his gentle touches, his phone rang. With a groan, Dean used his free hand and reached blindly for his phone to see who could possibly be calling him so late at night. Castiel Novak, the screen read. 

“Fuck,” he groaned before hitting the accept button. “What’s up, Cas?”

“You told me to call you when I got home. I just got home,” Castiel explained. His voice over the phone was deep and gravely, and it only caused blood to further pool in his gut. 

“Yeah, shit,” Dean’s voice cracked as he ran his thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “Why did it take you so long?”

Castiel went on to explain how the cab driver had been incompetent and gotten turned around twice in the short distance to Castiel’s apartment. Dean did his best to listen, he really did, but he kept zoning out. He knew that he should feel dirty as he continued to stroke himself while listening to his friend, but it was just too much. He’d spent months imagining what Castiel would sound like in bed and this was the closest thing he had to that fantasy. Castiel sounded like sex itself. 

Letting his eyes flutter shut, Dean cupped his balls and gave them a gentle roll before giving his cock another teasingly gentle stroke. “Oh, fuck.”

“Dean?” Castiel asked, sounding suddenly more alert. “Dean, are you touching yourself right now?”

Suddenly Dean was overcome by the urge to throw up as his stomach twisted in panic. What had he been thinking? “Fuck, Cas,” he began, pulling his hand free as though he’d been burned. “I’m so sorry. I know that wasn’t exactly appropriate, but I was just-“

“Dean,” Cas growled, interrupting Dean’s frantic babbling. “Go back to what you were doing.”

For a moment, Dean thought that this must have been how Cas sounded when he was in command. The confident, rough order sent a fresh wave of shivers down his spine. He didn’t even hear the high sound of his whimper as he pushed his underwear down. 

“That’s very good Dean,” Castiel said, the praise causing Dean to let out a high whine. “The things I would do to you, if I were there.”

“Tell me,” Dean panted. He flicked his thumb over the head of his leaking cock, swiping up the beads of precome. 

“Are you naked right now Dean?”

Dean grunted as he hurriedly pushed and kicked off his boxer briefs. “Am now.”

“So good for me, Dean. I want you to continue to stroke yourself, but do not come without asking me first, okay?” Castiel’s voice was starting to become breathy. 

“M’kay,” Dean groaned. He was so hard he was aching and he wanted nothing more than Castiel to be there in the room with him instead of over the phone. 

“Good. If I were there, I would kiss my way down your body until I was kneeling between your legs. I’d lick and kiss everywhere but your cock, until you were begging for it.” Castiel bit back a groan of his own. 

“Cas -I,” Dean panted, slowly jacking himself as he tried to picture what Castiel was telling him.“God, want you here with me.”

“I want to lick and kiss up your cock while I listen to you beg,” Castiel growled. “When you finally had enough I would slowly suck you down until you hit the back of my throat. I bet you’re so big Dean. Want to choke on you.”

“Yeah- hit the back of your throat baby.” Dean tried to slow his hand; he had started getting frantic but he wanted to make this last. “Fuck, Cas, that’s so good.”

Castiel let out a deep moan. “I can’t stop touching myself when I think of you Dean. I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, Christ!” Dean’s back arched, hips lifting off the bed and chasing his grip with every stroke. “Would fuck you so good Cas. Push your knees up to your shoulders and hold you there, as I fucked you.”

Dean could hear the sound of skin slapping skin in his ear. Castiel’s soft huffs of breath and low, filthy groans had him at the edge. He was so hard that ached with it, but still he wanted to bring Castiel over the edge with him. 

“Dean- fuck, you feel so good, look so good above me.”

“So close,” Dean warned, his hand twisting on the up stroke and thumb rubbing over his slit with each down-stroke. “You looked so fucking hot, tonight. Those things you doing just to torture me - fuck. I wanted to haul you onto the bar and have my way with you right there. Want you to come with me Cas.”

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me ever since the car wash,” Cas gasped, his voice becoming less stable as he drove himself towards the edge. “Oh shit, Dean.”

Castiel let out a steady stream of curses-  _ shit, Dean, fuck yes, just like that-  _ and at any other time Dean might have been embarrassed at how the gravely tone of Castiel’s voice in his ear, saying his name like a prayer, made him feel. But Dean couldn’t bring himself to care, now. He halfheartedly thought about making sure he didn’t wake Sam up but as Cas made his name sound like sin, he was forgetting why that was important. He could feel the tension curling in his gut as he got closer and closer. 

“Cas- oh shit- so good, sweetheart.” Dean’s head rolled to the side, pinning his phone to the mattress so he could slide his other hand down to pull at his nipples. “I’m gonna- oh shit Cas, I’m gonna come. Please Cas, can I-...”

In his ear, Castiel let out a loud groan.”Come for me, Dean,” he ordered, his voice a low growl.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed. He let out a whimper as he stroked himself; then with a loud gasp of “Cas!” he was coming. He stroked himself through his orgasm, come painting his stomach and up his chest in a spray of warmth. 

“So beautiful.” Through the phone, Cas sounded completely wrecked and Dean could imagine how he looked, spread out on his own bed. “Want you so bad Dean.”

“I’m here baby,” Dean hummed, sinking weightlessly into the sheets as he reveled in the post orgasmic bliss. “I’m right here Cas, I’ve got you.”

“Fuck,  _ Dean _ ,” Castiel groaned. He sounded like sex personified as he groaned Dean’s name one last time and came. 

“That was- fuck that was hot,” Dean murmured, feeling boneless. He wanted nothing more than to be able to curl up next to Castiel and enjoy this feeling together. “Wish I could see you right now; bet you look sexy as hell.”

Castiel let out a soft huff of laughter. “I don’t know about that; but I share the sentiment.”

“Yeah, baby, keep up that sexy talk for me,” Dean teased, his mouth curling into an easy smile. 

“Dean-.” Castiel’s paused, searching for the right words to explain what he felt. 

“I know Cas. I know,” Dean assured him. 

Castiel sighed, but this time it was a heavier sound. “I do not want to go to my family tomorrow.”

Dean chewed on his lower lip, wishing he knew the right thing to do or say. “Technically, that’s today now.” Dean could practically see Castiel’s eyes roll, as he let out a small scoff. “Okay, okay. I get it. But hey, you’re not completely alone in it this year. You call or text me if you need something. I’ll do my very best to be there to talk to you whenever you need me, okay?”

Cas huffed in response. “Won’t you be a little busy with your own family?”

Grabbing a wad of tissues, Dean gave his hand and stomach a cursory wipe. “It’s just me and Sammy tomorrow and, even on Thursday, I can handle a few measly text messages,” Dean insisted. He knew that talking to Castiel while at Ellen’s would lead to more teasing and questions than he really wanted, but if that’s what Castiel needed, it would be worth it. “Just don’t go back home to your successful family and forget about the little people.”

Dean could practically hear Castiel’s eye roll as he scoffed. “I will try my hardest,” Castiel grumbled.

As Dean flipped off the lamp on his bedside table and settled back against his pillows, the late hour and post-orgasm endorphins caught up with him. “You better Cas,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Go to sleep Dean,” Castiel said, his voice fond. 

Dean rolled onto his side, fitting his phone in between his head and the pillow. “No, ‘m fine,” he asserted even as his eyes slid shut.

“Good night Dean.”

Letting out a sleepy sigh of contentment, Dean hugged his spare pillow to his chest. “Night, night, Cas.” Without removing his phone, Dean fell into the best night of sleep he’d had in weeks. 


	9. Beginning of December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just want to apologize again for any confusion my little chapter mixeroo caused. This chapter is one of my favorite that I've written so I hope you enjoy!

_ Dean (4:55 pm): Beethoven’s 5th symphony does not count as driving music _

_ Cas (4:57 pm): I believe that the mere fact that it is currently playing as I drive makes it driving music. _

_ Dean (5:01 pm): Texting and driving, you’re a terrible influence. You teach kids! _

_ Cas (5:07 pm): I only check my phone at red lights and you know that Dean. _

_ Dean (5:10 pm): What will all those impressionable students say? _

_ Dean (5:11 pm): Hey Cas…. We went to a concert for my music… Maybe we could check out a show you’d like sometime? _

_ Dean (5:12 pm): If you want… _

_ Cas (5:15 pm): I assume that you do not mean Taylor Swift. _

_ Dean (5:19 pm): Fuck no _

_ Cas (5:23 pm): I know just the thing. The Wichita Symphony Orchestra is playing next weekend if you’re available. _

_ Dean (5:26 pm): How do you feel about Sam coming with? _

_ Cas (5:31 pm): Your brother is always welcome Dean. _

_ Dean (5:34 pm): I normally wouldn’t ask but this just sounds like the type of nerd thing that he would love. _

_ Cas (5:46 pm): Nerd thing. How charming.  _

_ Dean (5:51 pm): Whatever, you wear the nerd thing well.  _

_ Cas (5:57 pm): Thank you, I’m flattered I’m sure. _

_ Dean (6:03 pm): My phone is dripping from all that sarcasm _

_ Cas (6:09 pm): I just ordered our tickets for next Saturday. _

_ Dean (6:12 pm): Great, just let me know what I owe you for our tickets _

_ Dean (6:13 pm): I should probably go scrounge for dinner before I have to run for work _

_ Cas (6:18 pm): Have a good evening Dean.  _

XXX

“So let me just get this clear one more time. We are going to drive two hours to Wichita with my  _ teacher _ to listen to the symphony. Am I getting this right?” Sam asked from his perch on the edge of Dean’s bed. He held Zeppelin up to watch as Dean fumbled with his tie for the third time. 

Dean let out a frustrated sigh as he continued to fight with the, surely possessed, strip of fabric. “You know that he’s been coming into the Roadhouse lately and that we’ve been talking. He mentioned this show and I thought it might be something you would enjoy. You’re welcome by the way.”

With a low growl, Dean gave up and threw the offending tie to the ground. He’d been stressing all week about how to approach Sam about spending time with his teacher outside of school while continuing to hide the true nature of his relationship with Castiel. He’d gone over their cover story until he was blue in the face when Castiel was in the bar that Tuesday, but it hadn’t been enough to calm his nerves. 

Downstairs, the doorbell rang and Dean took one final glance at himself in the mirror. He looked good in his nicest pair of jeans and a black button-up shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows after giving up on the tie and his hair was neatly combed. “Go finish getting dressed Sasquatch, we have to leave in five.”

Sam rolled his eyes but stood anyway, taking his cat with him. Dean hurried down the stairs, dropping any pretense of nonchalance when he heard Sam’s bedroom door close. He opened the door and his heart clenched at the sight of Castiel on his doorstep. Cas was dressed in the same periwinkle blue sweater and grey slacks that he had been wearing the first time they met. With the addition of his trusty trenchcoat and his persistent bedhead, Dean was ready to drag Castiel up to his bedroom. 

“Fuck, I mean, uh, hey,” Dean stammered, gripping the door tightly for support. 

Cas smiled up at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hello, Dean.”

“You’re right on time,” Dean breathed as he reached out to grab the front of Cas’ trenchcoat. “And you look incredible.”

Castiel gently grasped Dean’s wrist, rubbing his thumb against his pulse point. “You look very nice as well. Should I come inside?”

Mentally kicking himself, Dean nodded and stepped aside so that Cas could brush past him. “Sam is almost finished getting ready. Do you want a drink or something?”

Humming softly, Cas stepped forward until he was crowding Dean against the entryway wall and they were mere inches apart. Dean swore he could hear his heart pounding as Cas placed a hand against his chest and closed the remaining distance between them. The kiss was just a brief brush of lips but it carried the promise of  _ more _ . 

“I’ve been wanting to do that since Thanksgiving,” Cas whispered as he pulled back, his hand still resting above Dean’s heart. His blue eyes were hooded where they watched as Dean licked his lips. “Ever since that phone call.”

Dean nodded, his own eyes locked on Castiel’s mouth. “Me too,” he breathed and just as he was considering leaning back in for another kiss, the sound of a door clicking open echoed down the hall.

Castiel took a large, hurried step back, letting his hand reluctantly fall away. Dean’s heart raced now from panic. He missed the small frown the pulled at Castiel’s lips when Dean hurriedly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, as though he could erase the evidence of what had just transpired. 

“It’s okay Dean,” Cas murmured as footsteps grew louder. “I won’t give you away.”

Before Dean could reply, his brother came bounding down the stairs. He gripped the edge of the small hall table in an attempt to ground himself. “You ready to go Sammy?” Dean asked, hoping that he sounded normal instead of how flustered he felt. 

Sam stopped at the foot of the stairs and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah Dean I’m ready,” he mumbled. “Uh, hey Mr. Novak.”

Castiel gave Sam a friendly smile, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat when he spoke. “Please Sam, call me Castiel when we are not at school.”

Sam glanced at Dean, looking unsure as to what he should do. 

“It’s fine Sammy, he won’t bite,” Dean teased as he took a step closer to his brother. “Right Cas?”

“I assure you, I save my biting for first-year students only,” Castiel replied, his eyes gleaming in amusement. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam grumbled as he moved to grab his jacket from the coat rack. “You guys are hilarious but shouldn’t we be driving?”

“I always knew I was hilarious!” Dean crowed, pumping a fist in the air as his brother rolled his eyes. He bit back a chuckle as he made for his own soft, brown leather jacket and held open the front door. “And before you can say it Cas, no.”

Castiel turned on the sidewalk to look quizzically at Dean who was locking the front door behind them. “No to what?”

Dean finished locking up and pointed at the Lincoln that was parked on the curb. “No, you are not driving. I refuse to go anywhere in that thing.”

“I assure you, my car is perfectly functional and more than capable of making the drive to Wichita,” Cas insisted even as he turned to follow Sam towards the Impala parked in the driveway. 

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Dean called, making his way around the front to unlock the driver’s side door. “I’m still not getting in it and hey, Sasquatches go in the back seat, teachers go up front.”

Sam rolled his eyes but moved towards the back door nonetheless. “Oh, I don’t mind, really-” Castiel started.

“Really nothing,” Dean interrupted. “Get upfront Novak.”

“Bossy isn’t he?” Sam asked, quirking a smile at Castiel as he opened the door to the back seat. 

“Most definitely,” Castiel agreed, smirking over at Dean who sat behind the wheel. 

Dean ignored them and started the car, which roared to life beneath them. “I’m not listening to you two.”

Dean pulled out of the driveway and turned towards the highway, starting the long drive to Wichita. “Pick out some tunes,” he said, pointing over in front of Castiel.

Castiel looked curiously at the glovebox. When he opened it he found a small cardboard box filled with neatly labeled tapes. ‘AC/DC, Highway To Hell’. ‘Led Zeppelin, Physical Graffiti’. ‘Rolling Stones, Sticky Fingers’.

“There’s nothing in there that’s been recorded past 1979,” Sam said from the back seat, leaning forward so he could look into the box over Castiel’s shoulder. 

“I can see that,” Castiel hummed, thumbing through the last of the cassettes until he reached one titled ‘Dean’s Driving Mix’.

“Hey,” Dean snapped, glaring briefly back at his brother in the rearview mirror. “You’re lucky I’m giving you asshats any say, you know the rule-.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam interrupted. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole, we know.”

“I’m sure I feel very honored to be allowed to pick the music instead of shutting my cakehole,” Castiel replied, biting down a laugh as he slid the mixtape into the tape deck. 

The opening notes of  _ Hot Blooded _ by Foreigner played through the car. In the back seat, Sam grinned. “I can’t believe you still have this man. How old was I when I made it for you, eleven?”

Dean cleared his throat and pointedly refused to look at the back seat or at Castiel next to him. “I think you might have been twelve. You spent a whole weekend stuck by the record player and stereo recording songs in just the right order. Of course, I still have it.”

“That’s incredibly touching,” Castiel said, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Dean’s profile. “My brothers would never do anything like that. I’m not sure I remember ever making a handmade present, even for Father.”

Dean took one hand from the steering wheel and hooked two fingers around Castiel’s pinky where it rested on the seat between them. “So you were buying gift cards at 5 years old?”

Uncomfortable with the sudden flood of memories, Castiel turned to watch the world pass outside his window. “Something like that.” Despite the distant tone of voice, he tangled his finger further with Dean’s, desperate for the little bit of contact. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it awkward,” Dean mumbled, glancing into the rearview mirror to check on Sammy. When he saw his brother fully engaged by his phone, Dean pulled his hand away before offering it palm up to Castiel. 

Castiel looked briefly down at his offered hand before sliding his smooth palm over calloused skin and letting their fingers thread together. “I love that you and Sam have these memories together.”

Once the song switched over to  _ Ramble On _ , the car fell into a comfortable silence. As they skirted around Topeka and took I-35 down south, the only sound was the roar of the Impala and the music from Sam’s old mixtape. Even when it ran out around Emporia, Dean just pressed the play button again before threading his fingers through Castiel’s and basking in the simple touch of their palms.

XX

“Alright, I think this is actually a place to park,” Dean said happily as he pulled into the first open space in the parking garage outside the performing arts center. The drive had been easy until they’d gotten close to their destination and traffic had picked up as hundreds of other people tried to get to the same place. 

Dean let out a long groan as he climbed out of his Baby and stretched. His back popped uncomfortably, and while he used to go on road trips way longer than two hours, he was clearly getting out of practice. Maybe over the break, he and Sam could pack up the Impala and just drive. He glanced over the car and let his eyes linger as Castiel bent and arched to pop his own back. The other man turned and caught his gaze with a wink before checking his pockets. Dean was about to comment on Castiel’s appearance when he heard his little brother clamber out of the car. 

“Alright, let’s go hear some fruity symphony music,” Dean said, wiping his sweaty palms on his legs. 

“I’ll remind you that this ‘fruity’ concert was your idea, Winchester,” Castiel snapped, but while his voice was harsh his eyes were bright and gleaming in the brightly lit garage. 

“That’s not what you told me, Dean,” Sam teased as they walked towards the nearest staircase. 

“Fine Cas, you’re right. I thought it might be something nice for us to do together, so sue me,” Dean grumbled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. Next to him, Castiel smirked up at him and knocked their elbows together. “Sasquatch over here has been asking me to take him to the symphony for years now.”

“Excuse me for trying to bring some culture to this family,” Sam huffed good-naturedly. 

The brothers continued to bicker as they made their way over to the building and to the ushers. Castiel passed three tickets over, happily taking the excuse of Sam and Dean’s continued lack of observation to keep the programs a surprise. It wasn’t until they arrived at their seats, up in a dimly lit box in the balcony, that Castiel passed out the programs for the night. 

“So what are we seeing?” Dean asked as he took his seat in between Castiel and Sam. “Holy shit, is this right Cas?”

Castiel turned to grin at Dean who was staring at him in disbelief. “Yes Dean, the show tonight is ‘Star Trek and Beyond’. The orchestra will be playing pieces from Star Trek, Star Wars, ET, and more.”

“Holy shit this is perfect,” Sam breathed, his hand passing reverently over the front of the program.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna hit the head before this gig starts,” Dean mumbled as he stood and delicately placed his program on his seat. He did his best to avoid looking at Castiel because he was having one of those moments again. Those moments where he was hit with just how kind, caring, and thoughtful the other man was. Dean was used to being turned on by Castiel but those emotional moments left him breathless and gasping. 

“I’ll go with you,” Sam said, untangling his long limbs from the chair and standing to follow Dean down the aisle. 

“I’ll just wait here then,” Castiel called as he watched the brothers hurry off. Folding his coat over his lap he mumbled again, “I’ll just wait here.”

A few minutes later Dean hunched over the sink, splashing water in his face. He had to get a grip. He was about to spend almost two hours in close quarters between his kid brother and his… something. Whatever he and Castiel were, Dean had to make sure that Sam never found out. 

“You okay man?”

Dean jumped minutely at Sam’s sudden appearance at the sink next to him. “Yeah, it was just a long drive,” he insisted, straightening up and making to grab a towel. “I’m better now.”

Sam gave him his best skeptical bitch face but Dean just rolled his eyes and punched his brother lightly in the arm. “Let’s go listen to some orch-dorks.”

“Dean these musicians practice more hours a week than you work,” Sam lectured as they made their way back to their seats. “They’ve all gone to school for this and went through grueling interviews with extremely low chances they would get in. I think they’ve earned the right to no longer be called orch-dork.”

With a shrug, Dean dropped into his seat, program in hand. “They may be very talented orch-dorks but that doesn’t change what they are at heart.”

“Can you please talk some sense into him Mr. No-, er, Castiel?” Sam asked, leaning around Dean to make eye contact with his teacher. 

As Castiel opened his mouth to speak, the orchestra below them came to life as each musician tuned and warmed up their instrument. “I believe the music is about to speak for me.”

After a minute, a man holding a violin came out to the stage to a round of applause. “The first violin player holds a special place and therefore special honors,” Castiel quietly explained, leaning close to whisper in Dean’s ear. “And this is the conductor.”

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out to the Wichita Symphony Orchestra tonight for our performance of ‘Star Trek and Beyond’. This concert is a special treat for us every year and not just because many of us are Trekkies,” the conductor began. Behind him, many of the musicians raised their hand in the Vulcan salute, pulling a chuckle from the audience. “We’d like to begin with the show that started it all. This is the original  _ Theme from Star Trek.” _

Though he’d later deny it, Dean’s leg bounced excitedly in his seat as the opening notes began to play. He could almost hear the dialogue that went along with it.  _ Space, the final frontier. _ Next to him, Sam was similarly excited, leaning forward slightly in his seat, his eyes glued on the musicians. They’d spent more than one afternoon, tucked away in the den watching reruns of Star Trek before their dad came home to insist they turn “that fruity space garbage” off. The show would always hold a special place in his heart. 

The music flowed from one song to the next. Star Trek flowed into the  _ Imperial March _ from Star Wars which had Dean nodding his head along to the heavy beats and low brass. Darth Vader turned into a soft love ballad from Attack of the Clones and while Dean would deny that the first three episodes existed until his dying breath, he couldn’t help but be swept away by the strings. If he shed a tear or two then it was okay, their booth was dark. As he tried to subtly wipe away a tear, Cas turned to smile fondly at him. Dean smiled back, silently insisting that the ache in his chest was due to the ballad playing and not from the way that when he returned his hand to the rest, Cas hooked his pinky with Dean’s. The mood in the room changed as Star Wars slowly turned to  _ The Theme from Jurassic Park _ and then to the  _ Theme from Star Trek: Into Darkness  _ but Dean continued to relish in that small point of contact between them until the lights went up for intermission. 

“Holy shit that was incredible!” Sam crowed, immediately hopping up from his seat to dispel some of his excited energy. 

“Hey, language in front of the teach bitch,” Dean drawled, smirking up at his baby brother. He could still feel the warmth of Castiel’s finger against his own and it felt like everything was written across his face. 

Sam rolled his eyes and swatted at Dean with his program. “Shut up jerk.”

Castiel watched them with a small bemused smile. Dean knew that their family dynamics were unique but for the first time in years, he didn’t feel the need to hide how things really were. 

“I’m going to run to the restroom, excuse me,” Castiel said before sliding past them and making his way towards the stairs. 

“So is it everything that your little nerd heart wanted it to be Sammy?” Dean asked, standing up to stretch his legs and lean over the balcony to people watch. There were a number of people that had dressed up in Star Trek officers uniforms. There was even someone as a large, inflatable BB-8. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be cool and act like you aren’t enjoying it you know,” Sam hummed. And damn his observant little Sasquatch of a brother. 

Letting his head hang momentarily, Dean took a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m enjoying the shit out of this. I thought I would hate the symphony, I really did but Cas did good. It’s been perfect so far.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks for letting me come along, I know you didn’t have to so, thanks.”

“Alright, enough chick flick moments for tonight.” Dean bent backward slightly to pop his back before leaning back against the railing. “Check out the Princess Leia dude.”

Once Castiel returned and the lights went back down, the second half went much like the first. The orchestra opened with a medley from 2001: A Space Odyssey before rolling straight into excerpts from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The first song had barely begun though, before Dean sought out Castiel’s hand and linked their pinkies together in the dark. Dean felt warm from that small hold as the orchestra transitioned into the  _ Main Title from Alien _ and a medley from E.T.: Adventures on Earth. It felt like almost no time had passed before the bright horns and trumpets began to blare the opening notes of the  _ Throne Room and End Title  _ from Star Wars IV: A New Hope. 

Dean felt his breath catch as the strings came in. He could almost picture Han and Luke walking down the aisle to be presented with their medals. This had always been one of his favorite moments from his favorite series of movies ever. He wasn’t even aware of the way his leg bounced in time to music or how his jaw had fallen slack in amazement. For just a moment he was so entranced he almost forgot about his brother or the fact that he was practically holding hands with Castiel in front of him. 

As the last note faded away, Dean tore his hand away and clapped harder than he’d ever clapped before. Soon the audience began to stand and he was quick to follow suite, finding himself wishing that this was a normal concert where he could expect an encore. Castiel and Sam slowly stood with him as the house lights turned back on.

“Wow,” Dean breathed, turning to look at his brother and Castiel as the musicians began to pack away their music and instruments. “You should have told me how much Star Wars there was going to be, I would have been way more excited about the symphony.”

Castiel smiled kindly at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners in amusement. “That would have taken all of the fun out of the surprise. It was better to have the opportunity to watch your reactions.”

“Hey I’ve got an idea,” Sam said before hurrying off. Dean and Castiel exchanged a glance and a small shrug before he was back with an usher in tow. “This is Eric, he’s going to take a picture of us!”

“Good idea.” Dean nodded, looking down to straighten his shirt and pulling at his folded cuffs as Sam slid back down the aisle next to him. “Where are you going Cas?”

Castiel had been sliding politely away so that he was out of the shot and looked back at them with a furrowed brow. “I’m merely getting out of the way, it’s my understanding that Sam wants a family photo.”

Dean frowned and looked over at Sam who gave a nonchalant shrug as if to say he didn’t mind either way. “Fine, we’ll do it two ways, one just us two and then one with you, deal?”

When Castiel nodded, Sam passed his phone over to the usher and showed him which button to press. Eric snapped a few shots of the brothers, framing the picture so that the orchestra was in the background below them. “Alright Cas, your turn now,” Dean instructed, gesturing his friend over. 

With a small frown, Castiel placed his jacket carefully back over one of the empty seats before stepping next to Dean, leaving a respectful foot of distance between them. Dean rolled his eyes before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in closer. Just for a moment, as Dean smiled for the camera, he allowed himself to imagine that this was how things normally went. That he was allowed to have this wonderful man at his side and his brother. 

Just like that though, the moment was over and Eric was passing Sam’s phone back to him. Dean quickly put some distance between himself and Castiel.

“I’m going to run to the restroom, meet you guys out front,” Sam called before he was bounding towards the staircase. 

Castiel made to grab his coat and follow Sam, but Dean caught his sleeve. 

“Hey, hold up a second,” he murmured before lifting a hand. “Hey, Eric! Would you mind helping us out here for another minute?”

Castiel looked curiously up at Dean but put his jacket back on his seat as instructed. When the bedraggled usher returned, Dean passed over his phone. With a shy smile, Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel’s waist and pulled him in close. 

“Smile Cas,” he whispered, grinning brightly up at the camera. 

In a flash, Eric was passing his phone back and scurrying away before he could get pulled into something else. Castiel took advantage of the moment and leaned into Dean as he flipped through his phone to look at his pictures.

In the first photo, they were looking away from the camera, Dean looking down at Castiel and Castiel up at him. Dean was pretty sure that he could see the cartoon hearts coming out of his eyes as he looked at Castiel. In the second photo, they were looking forward with matching goofy grins on their faces. As nice as the second photo was, Dean was pretty sure that the first was his favorite. Not that it mattered since no one could ever see them.

Brushing his thumb over the screen one last time, Dean let his arm fall away from Castiel and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “Alright, let’s go find Bigfoot.”

Castiel smiled softly at him before glancing around them. The balcony had cleared out right away and below them on the floor, only a handful of stragglers hung back. “Hang on,” Castiel hummed, letting his hand snake up Dean’s chest to rest above his heart. 

He rocked up onto his toes and paused just a breath away from Dean’s lips. Fighting every instinct that screamed that he was still in public, Dean licked his lips and closed the distance between them. The kiss was soft and sweet, so different from the hungry ones they’d shared before. Instead of lust, this was all about expressing contentment and happiness and something that was starting to feel a little like love

“Fuck,” Dean breathed when he regretfully pulled away. He swept his thumb over Castiel’s lower lips, mesmerized as a pink tongue flicked against his rough skin. “Cas, baby, I-.”

“I know Dean,” Cas interjected. He straightened Dean’s collar and brushed back an errant hair. “Let’s go find your brother.”

Blowing out a huff, Dean ran a hand down his face before going to follow Castiel and pick up his coat. Their hands brushed as they walked until they hit the lobby and took a small step apart. It only took a moment of scanning the crown before they saw Sam, a head above the crowd, wading towards them. 

“Thank you so much for this Castiel!” Sam was practically vibrating as he bounced excitedly on his toes. “I know Dean never would’ve picked this place on his own so really, thank you!”

“Hey now!” Dean cried, backhanding his brother in the chest. “You don’t know that.”

Castiel chuckled, brushing lint off his trenchcoat as he smiled at the brothers. “You’re very welcome Sam. I’m sure Dean would have fallen upon this eventually.”

“Thank you!” Dean crowed, raising a hand in the air. 

Castiel smirked at him. “Though I worry he would have lacked the good sense to come.”

Dean turned to look at Castiel, mouth hanging open. “I can’t believe you. How dare you besmirch my good name!”

Castiel bent over in laughter, his blue eyes crinkling. Sam laughed along with him, bracing his hands on his thighs as he watched them bicker. 

“Tell me I’m wrong Dean.”

“Well-,” Dean began. 

“I believe you merely suggested a concert that I would enjoy. Tell me, did you know that Wichita had a symphony?”

Dean scuffed his toe on the ground and did his best not to pout. “I figured Kansas probably had one somewhere.”

“I rest my case,” Castiel replied, straightening his cuffs. 

“Hey isn’t it enough that I enjoyed the show without getting my ass handed to me?” Dean shouldered his way through the front door and into the cool evening air. 

“Hey,” Sam said, nudging Dean’s shoulder with his own. “Of course it’s okay. I’m glad that you had a good time.”

“As am I,” Castiel added, looking as though he was fighting the urge to reach out a touch Dean. “I think this last surprise for the evening will return you to your former good mood.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean replied, bumping their elbows together as they walked towards the parking garage. “So where are we headed?”

XXX

The drive across town was short-lived. Even as he gave directions, Castiel refused to provide even a clue as to their destination. 

“It’s just up here on the left.” Castiel pointed from the front seat. 

Dean groaned as he slowly steered the Impala down the busy street. “Cas you’re killing me man with the secrecy and - oh my God please tell me this is it.”

Castiel’s lips pulled into a small proud smiled as Sam breathed from the backseat. “Oh, this is perfect.”

They got lucky and found a parking spot long enough for Baby on the same block. Dean was quick to hurry them out of the car, his fingertips brushing the small of Castiel’s back as they passed on the sidewalk. A small crowd led them to a brightly lit, rustic storefront. There was a large, red vintage marquee sign that exclaimed ‘Em _ pie _ re’ above the wooden deck and a handful of tables and chairs. It looked inviting and the smells wafting from the front door drew them further inside. 

“Please tell me this is what I think it is,” Dean said, his voice a hush as he rubbed his palms together once they hit the warm air inside. 

Castiel picked up a small menu, doing his best to appear nonchalant. “That depends. Do you think that this is an establishment that serves nothing but pie?”

Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from professing his love to Castiel right on the spot. “That’s uh-,” he cleared his throat. “Man, I can’t believe I didn’t know this place existed.”

“It’s not like we ever come to Wichita,” Sam added, looking over his own menu. 

“No sass from you back there, we’re on hallowed ground.” Dean trailed a finger reverently down the side of his menu. “There are 15 flavors, how is a guy to choose? Is this how people feel if you ask them to pick a favorite child?”

“Dean, do you trust me?”

Dean looked up warily at Castiel. His gut instinct was to say yes without a second thought, but something about that scared him. To trust him was to be vulnerable and vulnerability had been beaten out of him a long time ago. “Yeah Cas,” he said after a beat. “I trust you.”

Castiel plucked the menus away from Sam and Dean and pushed them to the side. “Go find a table with enough space, I’ll get the pie.”

Suspicious, Dean did as he was told and pushed his brother in front of him through the tables. 

“Really? You’re going to let him pick out your  _ pie _ ?” Sam asked, looking back at Dean in disbelief. “Should I expect wedding invitations in the mail soon?”

With a scowl, Dean whacked his brother upside the head. “Shut up or I won’t share any pie and you’ll be walking home tonight.”

Sam snickered to himself as they took a table by the windows. Dean purposefully took the seat facing away from the line to help resist the urge to watch Castiel wait in line and order at the counter. “Text me that picture from earlier,” he gruffed, desperate for a distraction. 

A few seconds later, Dean’s phone buzzed on the table in front of him. He tried to bite back a smile at the picture of him and Sam. Sam had grown almost a foot since the last time they’d taken a proper photo together and even with his ridiculous, floppy hair, he was starting to look so grown up. Dean proudly saved the picture as his phone background, wishing he could get away with saving the picture that included Castiel instead. Maybe he could get away with printing it out. 

“Hey, where’s the pie?” Dean asked once Castiel sat down at the table empty-handed. 

The withering look he got in return was doubtlessly one that Castiel gave to his students on a regular basis. “I assure you, your patience will be rewarded, Dean.”

Rolling his eyes, Castiel turned to ask Sam which song had been his favorite. It quickly devolved into an ugly debate between the brothers about whether even the soundtracks from Star Wars episodes 1-3 could be considered good. 

“Whatever, you cried like a bitch to “Across the Stars” and there’s no excuse for that!” Sam cried, throwing a hand in the air. 

“Bitch,” Dean bit back as he scowled at his brother. “The movies are inexcusable garbage but the music was beautiful. Don’t blame John Williams for George Lucas’ sins.”

“Help me out here Castiel,” Sam asked, looking to his teacher. 

“I’m afraid that I don’t have much to say on the matter,” Castiel started, suddenly finding the cuffs of his trenchcoat fascinating. “I have not seen any of the Star Wars movies.”

Dean turned to look at him so fast that he was a little worried about whiplash. “Castiel Novak,” he began, his voice low and serious in the din of the restaurant. “We’ve been da- friends for four months now and you’re seriously trying to tell me that I’ve had a Star Wars virgin on my hands this whole time?”

Castiel gave a small shrug. “I didn’t realize it was such a dire situation.” Dean opened his mouth, no doubt prepared to interrupt with an argument, when Cas saw it. “I think this is our order.”

Dean turned and felt his jaw drop at the sight of two waitresses with trays full of almost a dozen plates and a pair of coffee mugs. “Cas,” he breathed as slice after slice of pie was placed in front of him. “What did you do?”

Smiling over the cup of coffee he’d picked up, Castiel tilted his head to the side as he took in the sight of Dean happily surveying the array of desserts. 

“I admit, it’s a little indulgent but, you said that you couldn’t choose so I figured now you don’t have to. I assumed that we could all partake in tasting them and then decided on a favorite?” 

Dean was shocked. His fingers itched to reach out and touch the plates as he spoke. “Cas there’s like a dozen plates here. Did you order the whole menu?”

Castiel shrugged with a small nervous smile like he wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing. “There are only 11. I remembered your hatred of coconut so I eliminated those immediately.”

“Wow,” Sam breathed, looking eagerly at the piece closest to him. “I take back what I said earlier Dean, marry him.”

Dean felt his stomach lurch and tie itself in knots. He could feel Castiel staring at him but he couldn’t bear to turn and see that questioning gaze or that damned head tilt. Forcing a laugh, he punched his brother in the arm, possibly a little harder than he should’ve and turned to roll his eyes as Castiel. “Yeah, he wishes.”

As soon as the sentence was out, Dean instantly regretted it. Instead of curious, Castiel was now watching them with a small frown. “I’m afraid that I’ve missed the joke.”

“It was nothing, just stupid brother stuff, you know how it goes,” Dean bit out before catching Castiel’s eye, emploring him to pick up on how uncomfortable Dean was and that he would never try to undermine what was growing between them that way. 

Desperate for a change of subject, Dean grabbed a fork. “Enough blabbing! Let’s eat some pie!”

Sam rolled his eyes fondly as Dean pulled the first plate in close. “Hell yeah!” He cried before picking up his own fork and digging in. 

For the first few minutes, Castiel simply sat there and watched as the brothers bickered over the pie, forks clanging against each other as they tried to protect their favorites. 

“What are you waiting for?” Dean asked around a mouthful of chocolate pecan pie.

“Nothing,” Castiel said, raising a hand in defense. “Sometimes I forget that families get along so well, it’s nice.”

With a feeling of warmth in his chest, Dean grabbed the last clean fork. He picked up a small bite of the pecan pie on his plate and held it up in offering. Suddenly remembering Sam’s presence, Dean cleared his throat and passed the whole fork over to Castiel. “Well there’s only one way to become part of the family fun and that’s to eat some damn pie.”

Castiel’s smile grew as he accepted the utensil. “I’m not sure, the last time I had pecan pie it was  _ exceptional _ . Does this one live up to it?”

Dean choked on his bite of pecans when simultaneously, a foot bumped against his, waited a moment, then slid across his ankle. Between the illicit game of footsie and Castiel’s innuendo, Dean was starting to feel a little hot under the collar. 

“Well, I uh… this pie is okay but I don’t know if it will live up to that particular memory. Especially if it was as good as you say,” Dean finally answered, his voice rough from coughing. 

With a hum, Castiel took the offered bite. Unaware of the subtext, Sam watched them carefully, his own fork paused as he waited for a verdict. Castiel blinked slowly, his lips curling into a smile. 

“I believe as Dean would say, that’s some damn good pie.”

“Damn straight, now dig in, we have a shit ton of pie to eat.” Dean grinned as he pulled a plate of strawberry rhubarb crumble closer to him. He had a table full of pie, his genius kid brother next to him, and the sexy man he was sort of dating across from him. Life couldn’t get much better than that.

XXX

“I’ve never said this before but I don’t think I could eat another bite of pie for like a week,” Dean groaned, leaning back in his seat and rubbing a hand over his full stomach. 

After almost an hour of tasting and good-natured arguing over pies, they had managed to eat through most of their bounty. Only a few half slices remained and had been neatly packed away for later. 

“Cas, this was the best ending to anything.”

Sam nodded eagerly, looking suspiciously less full than Dean or Castiel. “Thank you Castiel, this has been a really fun night. It’s been too long since we got out and did something like this Dean.”

Right to the heart, Dean thought. He knew that he should be spending more quality time with Sam, going out and giving him new experiences but he was always working or Sam was at school. “Yeah, maybe we can be a bit better about that.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said as he idly picked at the packaging on their to-go pieces. 

“Yeah whatever,” Dean grumbled, not in the mood to deal with feelings right now. “We should probably head out, we still have a two-hour drive ahead of us. 

The trio stood and made their way back out onto the street, pulling their jackets tighter around them. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive Dean? I’ve heard that large consumption of carbohydrates and sugar can cause what is known as a sugar crash which may involve fatigue.”

Dean stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, abruptly turning to face Castiel. “Okay, three things. First, no one drives Baby but me okay? No one. Second, You’re sounding like a damn Vulcan again, we talked about that. And third?  _ No one _ drives Baby but me. Capisce?”

Castiel rolled his eyes but smiled fondly at him. “Yes, Dean, I capisce.”

They began walking again and Sam leaned over to Castiel. “He tried to teach me to drive in the Impala once. I can’t tell you how stressed and paranoid he was the whole time. I thought he was going to have a heart attack at one point when I got a little close to a mailbox. I had to finish learning in an old junker from Bobby’s salvage yard after that.”

“You could have dented her fender!” Dean said in defense as he unlocked the car. 

Sam just laughed as he slid into the back seat. “See? Imagine that times a million.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough backseat commentary for the night thanks.”

Across the bench seat, Castiel’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. Dean glowered at him before pulling out onto the road and starting the long drive home. “Laugh it up fuzzball.”

Castiel turned and Dean could feel the weight of those blue eyes on him. “You know I don’t understand that reference.”

With a sigh, Dean snuck a hand across the bench to squeeze Castiel’s thigh gently. “I know young padawan, we’ll get you to see Star Wars soon.”

XXX

The rest of the drive passed smoothly. Zeppelin IV played softly from the speakers as the miles passed by in darkness. In the backseat Sam quickly fell asleep, his snores occasionally breaking through the music. As soon as Dean was sure that his brother was completely out, he held his right hand out towards Castiel, feeling his cheeks flush when Castiel’s palm met his and their fingers tangled together. 

They sat in comfortable silence, only broken by Dean humming along to the music and Castiel whispering the occasional question. It was nice and peaceful and Dean found himself wishing it would never end. There, safe in the Impala, on the open road, he didn’t have to worry about the fact that the person of his dreams happened to be a man. While he drove, there was no room to worry if he was working enough hours to support Sam through school next year. No need to worry if he was doing enough, if  _ he _ was enough. For the moment he could just  _ be _ .

“Wake up sleepy head we’re home!” Dean called once he pulled into the garage back home. He dropped Castiel’s hand with a small wink before turning to whack Sam’s knees. 

“Huh?” Sam jolted awake, sitting up so quickly that he smacked his head on the roof of the Impala. “Ow.”

Dean snorted. “That’s what you get for being a giant.”

Still half asleep, Sam grumbled unintelligibly at him as he slid out of the car and shuffled into the house. Dean and Castiel followed him inside but when Sam immediately hit the stairs with a holler of ‘thanks again, goodnight’, Dean held Castiel back. 

They stood in the kitchen and Dean suddenly found himself nervous. In the mostly dark house, with Sam shut away in his room, it felt as though they had the house to themselves. His body was suggesting a myriad of things that they could get up to with a couch and bed readily available, but what remained of his rational mind tried to keep control and remind him that his brother was home and there was no way that Sam could find out about them. 

“Do you want some coffee or something?” Dean fidgeted nervously with a button on his jacket, green eyes fixated over Castiel’s shoulder. 

Castiel stalked forward, his gaze hungry as he crowded Dean back against the kitchen counter. Dean gulped when his back hit the hard edge. He could feel the heat radiating off Castiel’s body where it was pressed against him, their hips flush.

Castiel’s voice was deep and gravelly in that way that sent desire flooding through Dean as he growled, “No Dean, I do not want coffee.”

With that, he wrapped his hand around the side of Dean’s neck, cupped his jaw and pulled him in for a kiss. Castiel’s lips were dry from the cold winter air as they softly caressed Dean’s own. Muffling a groan, Dean fisted a hand in Castiel’s sweater and tugged until they were chest to chest. 

Despite the way that Dean pressed hard, open mouth kisses or ran his tongue along the seam of Castiel’s mouth, the other man kept the pace punishingly slow. Surrendering control, Dean tangled his fingers in Castiel’s hair and let Castiel slowly take him apart. 

Slowly, finally, Castiel licked into his mouth, tongue tangling with Dean’s. Slick muscle stroked against his, sending a shiver of pleasure from head to toe. The kiss sent a throb of desire to Dean’s rapidly hardening cock and he could feel  _ need _ coursing through his veins. He needed more and he needed it right then. Dean ran his palms across Castiel’s shoulders to push at the first layer that came between them, that damn trench coat. Castiel reluctantly dropped his hands from Dean’s jaw so Dean could slide the fabric off to puddle on the floor. 

A pair of hands massaged the globes of Dean’s ass before sliding up to grip his hips and lift. Dean broke the kiss with a gasp of surprise as Castiel sat him on the counter. He immediately wrapped his legs around Castiel’s waist. Never missing a beat, Castiel began to kiss and lick across the stubble of Dean’s jaw and down his throat. 

“Goddamn Cas,” Dean groaned, leaning back on one hand and cocking his head to the side to offer more skin. 

Castiel huffed a hot breath across the damp skin of his neck before tugging Dean’s earlobe between his teeth. “I’ve been waiting for this moment all night.”

The idea of Castiel sitting next to him at the symphony or, even worse, inside the Impala, imagining what he wanted to do to Dean did things to him and pulled a moan from deep in his chest. “You can’t just say things like that,” Dean groaned, his own fingers stumbling as they tried to undo Castiel’s tie. “You’re fucking killing me.”

“Then I suppose you wouldn’t like to hear about all of the ways I fantasized about taking you?” 

Castiel rocked his hips forward and Dean let out a goddamn whimper at the sudden friction. Castiel’s cock pressed against his own erection and it was good but damn Dean wanted more. He tightened his legs around Castiel’s hips, pulling him in tight and drawing a small huff from Castiel. 

Licking back into Castiel’s mouth and rocking up against him in search of more delicious friction, Dean tried to ignore the nagging voice in his mind. The one that tried to remind him that Sam could come down at any time. Castiel’s hands slid up his thighs and across the softness of Dean’s stomach to pull eagerly at his belt buckle.

With a groan, Dean leaned back to watch where Castiel’s hands were deftly working his belt open and moving to flick open the button of his jeans. “Cas wait.”

Castiel pulled back immediately. His blue eyes were blown wide and dark with lust where they searched Dean’s face. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean let out a soft groan of frustration and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “You have no idea how badly I want to let you bend me over the couch or invite you up to my bed.”

Castiel watched him, his brow scrunched and head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m not sure I understand the problem.”

“Sam’s here and seriously, I’m one step away from propositioning you right here in the kitchen but we can’t.” Dean was desperate for Castiel to understand. “Our rooms are just too close and while you might be able to be quiet, I’m not sure I could.”

The last part had Castiel’s flashing darkly with  _ want _ before he leaned close and let his forehead rest against Dean’s. “I get it. I cannot say I’m exactly excited about it, but I understand Dean.”

Relieved and touched more than he could ever say, Dean cupped the other man’s face in his hands and pulled him into a tender kiss. Their lips slid softly against each other until they both pulled away panting for air. 

“Please know how badly I want you in my bed,” Dean murmured, his heart racing with anxiety, lust, and another emotion he didn’t want to think about. 

Long, delicate fingers carded through Dean’s hair, scratching lightly against his scalp, before coming to rest in the small hairs at the nape of his neck. “Please know how badly I want to be in your bed Dean, but I understand. We will find our time.”

Castiel pressed a small kiss at the corner of Dean’s mouth before leaning back and smirking. “Though you should know, my bed is always available.” 

Dean let out a small huff of laughter. “I know. I know Sam’s almost an adult know but I hate the idea of leaving him home alone for the night. I’ll get better, I promise. I’ll figure something out.”

“The fact that you’re willing to try is all I need,” Castiel replied with a soft smile. 

Rubbing his thumb across Castiel’s cheekbone, Dean pulled him in for one last kiss. It was over all too soon and Castiel was pulling away as Dean dropped his legs and slid from the counter. They moved quietly to get dressed, Dean re-buckling his belt and Castiel picking up his jacket from the kitchen floor. 

“You sure you don’t actually want some coffee or something to keep you awake for the drive?”

Castiel looked pointedly down at the bulge in his trousers before looking back up at Dean as they walked quietly through the house to the front door. “No Dean,” he drawled. “I think I have plenty of frustrated energy to keep me awake.”

“Fucking hell Cas.” Dean tried to adjust himself before going to unlock the door. “Call me when you get home, I want to at least hear you.”

Castiel stepped close, brushing his lips over Dean’s. “I will call you.” He took a step towards the door before pausing. “When can I see you again?”

“I’ll see you Tuesday at the Roadhouse right?”

“No, Dean,” Castiel said, voice low. “When will I  _ see _ you again? Preferably alone.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away momentarily as he thought. “Well Sam, and I guess you, are done with school at the end of the week so he’ll be around more. He’s also got a big list of Christmas traditions that he wants to create this year before he goes off to school, so a lot of my free time is spoken for. Maybe after Christmas?”

“I hate this,” Castiel whispered and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat as he looked down at the floor. 

Dean’s chest tightened. There was no way he would ever do anything to purposefully hurt Castiel but he still found himself panicking when he thought of telling Sam or Bobby. Feeling unsteady, he reached for Castiel before letting his hand drop.

“I know Cas, fuck. I’m sorry that I’m dragging you through this.” Dean ran his hand over his eyes. “I’m not ready though.”

“Tonight was good though, correct?” Castiel asked, trying to catch Dean’s eye.

“Yeah, of course, it was.” Dean thought back to how he’d felt sitting in the symphony with his brother and Castiel. How Castiel had continued to include Sam in every instance, how well they’d clicked. How good the night had felt, how right. “It was perfect.”

Castiel took a small step forward and caught Dean’s hand, threading their fingers together. “We could have that all the time Dean. I’m not just talking about sex but really spending time together. Sam was very welcoming of my presence tonight. I’m sure if you told him, he’d be understanding. He’s a bright young man.”

“It’s not just the gay - bi- whatever, thing.” Dean motioned between them. “Yeah I’m still not exactly thrilled about telling people that part, but you’re his teacher Cas. Imagine how the other kids would act if they knew that his brother was dating their teacher? He’s already had enough trouble for being there on scholarship, I won’t be a part of making it worse.”

“Sam’s lucky to have you looking out for him but he’s an adult, he won’t need your protection forever.” Castiel reached up to trace across Dean’s jawline.

Dean leaned into the touch and let his eyes flutter shut. “Are we still… you know… good?”

With a small sigh, Castiel pushed up on his toes and brushed his lips over Dean’s in the barest hint of a kiss. “Yes Dean, we are still okay. I’ll keep waiting for you to be ready. “

Dean let out a sigh of relief before Castiel continued. “Please, just know that I cannot wait forever.”

The knot in his stomach loosened slightly, but Dean couldn’t deny the lump in his throat or the way he felt his heart race. He hadn’t lost Castiel, that was enough for now. He just had to figure out how to keep him. Leaning down, Dean cupped Castiel’s face gingerly in his hands. “You won’t have to,” he whispered before sealing the promise with a kiss. 

More than just the touching of lips, they each poured out what they couldn’t say into the kiss. Castiel’s lips were soft and firm beneath his lips, still swollen from their earlier rendezvous in the kitchen. When Dean ran his tongue along his lower lip, Castiel’s mouth opened easily. Tongues lazily slid together and Dean was able to take his time to taste the coffee, pie, and everything that made him Castiel. 

Despite its innocent intentions, the kiss quickly turned hot and heady, Everywhere Castiel touched, Dean felt himself come alive. The thumb along his jaw, the fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, the weight of Castiel’s chest against his. Dean felt every throb of desire from before come back in waves. 

“Cas sta-,” Dean started as he panted for air.

“I know, I should probably go,” Castiel interrupted. 

Dean chewed on his bottom lip as he considered his options. Castiel clearly hadn’t heard what he was about to offer. Was the invitation just an impulse though? Nothing more than hormones and blood rushing from his brain to his dick. 

“Yeah, its uh- late,” Dean finally replied. 

“I’ll see you on Tuesday.” Castiel leaned in and pressed a small peck to the corner of Dean’s mouth. 

Castiel turned for the door and cracked it open when Dean caught his arm. When he looked up, Dean looked nervous. “You’ll still call me when you get home?”

Castiel smiled up at him, brushing a stray hair off Dean’s forehead. “Of course I will.”

Relieved, Dean beamed at him before realizing what he was doing and pulling it back some. “Good… that’s uh, good.”

Pulling away, Castiel pulled the door open and stepped out into the late-night air. “Good night Dean, I will speak with you soon.”

“Night Cas,” Dean mumbled. 

He stood to watch as Castiel walked out to his car and started it up. Only when the Continental had pulled away and driven down the street did Dean lock the door and head to bed. 

As he walked upstairs he replayed their conversation in his mind. He was coming to terms with the fact that he had feelings for and was very attracted to a man. If that had been the only problem, Dean might have been willing to at least tell Sam over winter break. But Castiel was Sam’s teacher and Dean would do anything to protect his brother, even if it meant breaking his own heart. 

XXX

_ Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt. _

Dean groaned and rolled over, his hand blindly reaching for the vibrating phone on his nightstand. Without looking, he pressed the accept button, still refusing to open his eyes.

“‘Ello?” He croaked, his voice rough from sleep. Over the line, he could hear the sound of heavy breathing and nothing else. He grunted and pulled the phone away to look at the caller id. “Cas?”

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel finally said after a minute. His usually rough voice was broken and raw, sounding as if he’d just been screaming. 

Dean blearily glanced at the glowing numbers on the alarm clock sitting next to him. “Cas it’s almost 3 am.”

Castiel paused, his breathing slowing but still labored. “I’m sorry I was- I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“It’s fine Cas.” Something in his tone didn’t sit well with Dean. He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard and flicked on his lamp. “Really, what’s wrong?”

Over the phone, Castiel sighed. “I didn’t think this through when I called you, I find that I’m a little embarrassed.” There was another lengthy pause before the other man mumbled, “I had a nightmare. Normally, they aren’t terrible but for some reason tonight was… different. I woke up convinced that I was back in Afghanistan. My mattress felt like my old bedroll and it was hot like the desert. I’m afraid I grabbed my phone and dialed you before I really knew what was happening. I’m sorry to wake you.”

Dean felt his stomach churn and his heart ached with the need to say the right thing; to make this better. “I’m glad you called,” he finally whispered. “You shouldn’t have to go through that alone.”

“I think my screaming may have woken my neighbors.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fuck your neighbors man, I’m concerned about you. Do you want to talk about it?”

Castiel was silent for a beat, his breathing finally even and steady in Dean’s ear. “I dreamt of a small village we were sent to. We dropped in not knowing what to expect beyond reports of possible civilian casualties. Nothing we hadn’t dealt with and couldn’t handle.” He cleared his throat and sniffed. If Dean didn’t know better he would have thought the other man was crying. “There was a school Dean, three insurgents were holding the children hostage and the moment they saw our chutes land it was too late.”

A racking sob sounded across the line. Dean’s mind helpfully supplied him with the mental image of Castiel lying alone in bed, his shoulders shaking as he cried. His own heart broke for the things that Castiel had been through and the pain he was carrying now. “Cas, I may not have been there but I know you and I know you did everything you could.”

“They were children Dean, I don’t think a single one was over eleven,” Castiel whispered, his voice cracking. 

Every instinct Dean had told him to go over to Castiel’s apartment and help him through this in any way he could, but nothing had changed from earlier that night. Sam was still asleep in the room next to his and he wasn’t comfortable leaving him alone for the night. Dean paused for a beat, his mind racing. An hour or two couldn’t hurt, could it?

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Dean said, voice muffled as he pulled on a long-sleeved tee over his head. He scribbled a note that he had stepped out for an hour and for Sam to call him if he needed him on a scratchpad on his dresser. 

“I live fifteen minutes away Dean,” Castiel mumbled and Dean smiled. There was the smart ass he knew and loved. 

Folding the note in half, Dean wedged it in between his door and the frame so that it stuck out at eye level. “I bet you it still only takes ten minutes,” Dean whispered as he crept down the stairs.

That forced a small chuckle from Castiel. “It’s a bet.” There was a moment of silence while Dean pulled his boots and leather jacket on. 

“You really don’t need to come over Dean, that’s not why I called you,” Castiel mumbled, his voice sounding soft and vulnerable. “I’m not sure why I called you really. I normally handle this sort of thing alone.”

Dean frowned as he slipped through the garage and into the Impala. “You don’t have to be alone though, Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel breathed. “Drive safely.”

“Ten minutes Cas.” 

Ending the call, Dean pulled out onto the quiet streets. For the first time, he silently cursed how loud and distinctive the roar of the Impala was. If anything was going to tip Sam off to his departure, it would be his Baby. 

He turned his music down, Lynyrd Skynrd playing softly in the background as he drove. The roads were empty and he mentally thanked whatever high power existed for his good fortune as he caught green light after green light. Exactly ten minutes later, he pulled into a parking space right in front of Castiel’s building. Hell yeah.

Dean winced as he knocked on Castiel’s door. In the quiet early morning, his knock felt deafening. The door slowly creaked open and Dean couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Castiel standing in his pajamas in his entryway. He was wearing dark green flannel pants with little reindeers on them and a well worn, grey Dartmouth tee. His hair stood up at odd angles and he still had red imprints from his sheets on his left cheek. His eyes were rimmed with red and his face was tear-stained. In the dim light from a lamp in his living room and the glow of the parking lot lights, he looked beautiful.

“Right on time,” Dean said, trying not to stammer over his words as he attempted to tear his eyes away from his friend.

The corners of Castiel’s lips slowly tugged up but the small smile never reached his eyes. “Yes, it appears as though I have lost our bet. I don’t believe we ever set terms.”

Dean shot him a cocky grin as he brushed by and into the apartment. “Well, either way, you win the joy of my company, obviously.”

Castiel’s hands slid up his arms before sneaking under Dean’s jacket and pushing it off his arms. “You’re still in pajamas. You really didn’t have to come,” Castiel protested weakly even as he turned to hang Dean’s jacket on his coat rack before standing nervously at the opening of his living room. With his eyes focused on the floor and shoulders slumped, Dean ached to comfort him.

“Hey,” Dean said, stepping forward and rubbing his thumb over the stubble on Castiel’s jaw. He bent down so that he could meet Castiel’s gaze. “I don’t mind, really.”

With a small exhale, Castiel gave a jerky nod. “I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now.”

Something in Dean’s heart clenched. His friend was normally so confident and sure of himself, it hurt to see Castiel like this. Dean dropped his hand to Castiel’s and tangled their fingers together before taking a step back. “Come on.”

The hallway was dark as he got farther from the living room but thankfully there were only three doors to choose from. On his right, he could make out the shadow of a desk and more bookshelves. Castiel’s office. The door directly in front of him was lit with a small night light so that he could make out a toilet and sink. Obviously the bathroom. That only left the room to his left so he confidently strode forward. Light from the parking lot peeked through the blinds and cast long shadows over the queen bed. 

Dean kicked his shoes off by the door before dropping Castiel’s hand. He leapt up onto the bed and rolled onto his back. Castiel looked down at him, his brow furrowed as though he was still unsure how he was supposed to proceed. 

“I won’t bite Cas,” Dean teased before patting the side of the bed next to him. “Lay down.”

The look that Castiel shot him in the dim light said that he wasn’t so sure about that, but he stepped around to the other side of the bed anyways. The bed dipped as Castiel tentatively crawled across the mattress towards Dean. He stopped when he was a foot away and laid down, turning to face Dean.

With a soft smile, Dean scooted closer until they were almost nose to nose. “Turn around,” Dean whispered, his breath hot on Castiel’s lips. Castiel swallowed thickly before turning on his other side until his back was to Dean. 

Dean ran a hand over Castiel’s shoulder and down his side. His lizard brain was urging him to lean in and kiss every inch of exposed skin down Castiel’s neck and where his baggy shirt slipped over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Dean forced that thought down. That wasn’t what Castiel needed. “Good sweetheart, that’s good.”

He could feel Castiel relax against him so Dean settled back down onto the pillow and wrapped an arm tightly around Castiel’s stomach and pulled him in until they were flush from chest to knee. For a few minutes, the soft sound of their mingled breathing was the only sound in the room.

“Thank you for coming over Dean,” Castiel whispered, breaking the silence. 

Dean pressed a soft kiss to the junction of Castiel’s neck and shoulder. “Any time Cas.” He waited for a beat before offering, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Castiel’s body tensed against him and his breathing became more shallow. Dean was about to insist that they didn’t have to talk about anything when Castiel quietly spoke up. “It was just like I was there.”

Dean waited for more, his own mind racing with what he could possibly say to help. He knew his father had nightmares of the war but he preferred drinking over talking. Besides, talking had always been Sam’s strong point. 

“I couldn’t get out of it.” Castiel’s voice cracked. “I could smell the blood and sweat and feel the heat off the sand.”

Under Dean’s arm, Castiel’s shoulders began to shake as the other man sobbed softly. Lost at what to do, Dean tightened his hold on Castiel’s waist and made soft shushing noises. “It’s okay Cas, you’re home now. You made it back home and you’re safe now. You’re here in your bedroom laying on your slightly lumpy mattress with me.”

Castiel huffed a wet hiccoughing laugh. “My bed is not lumpy.”

Dean pressed a kiss behind his ear and nuzzled the spot with his nose as he softly replied, “Sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but yes it is.”

“And I suppose yours is so great?” Castiel asked with a sniff.

“Of course it is.” Dean let go momentarily to reach behind him for the box of tissues sitting on Castiel’s nightstand. “Memory foam baby. It remembers me.”

Castiel’s shoulders shook again but this time with laughter. “Well, I promise to have my next emotional breakdown in your bed.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Dean drawled, but his mind was distracted by the idea of Castiel curled up against him in his own bed. It was a nice mental image. The sound of a small yawn brought him back to the present. “You getting sleepy on me Cas?”

Castiel nodded against the pillow before bringing Dean’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss over each knuckle. “Yes, complete breakdowns can be rather exhausting. I’m okay though if you need to leave.”

Frowning, Dean pulled his arm free and check his phone. It was a quarter til 4. Sam wouldn’t wake up for his -freakish- morning run until 6 o’clock so as long as he was home before then, he should be in the clear. He quickly set a one-hour timer on his phone before curling back around Castiel. “You trying to get rid of me so soon?”

“Absolutely.” Dean could picture Castiel’s small smile as he tried to sound stern and failed.

“Whatever you say, big guy,” Dean hummed before pressing a series of kisses up the other man’s neck. Castiel wriggled slightly as he pushed back into Dean’s embrace. 

A comfortable silence fell over the room and just as Dean’s eyes began to droop he heard Castiel whisper, “Thank you for coming over Dean.”

“Anytime,” Dean whispered back before pressing a kiss to the shoulder in front of him. As he settled back against the pillow, Dean was struck by just how much he meant that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that the chapters start getting really long now? Whoops!
> 
> I'm getting all my writing time in today because I will be having a very SPN themed weekend. We're going to Family Business Brewery and then seeing Louden Swain. If you're going to the show in Austin hit me up!


	10. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So I feel like I owe you all an explanation as to why I disappeared for 3 weeks. I 'm battling some mental health issues and was inpatient for a week. I'm now in a residential program. I'm still writing but things are going a lot slower after all day therapy! 
> 
> Any who. This chapter is way longer than the others so I hope that makes up for the time a litter. I'll try to get myself back on schedule but give me a little slack. I love you all so much! Okay enough blabbing, on with the story!!

Outside, the snow had been falling all morning, the flurries accumulating in a layer of soft powder on all the cars parked outside Singer’s Auto Shop and Salvage Yard. Inside the neighboring homes, families were finishing up their Christmas lunches, content to sit in peaceful quiet.Then there was the Singer home. 

“Is that really how you pour whiskey, old man?” Dean grinned cheekily, as he held his glass up for another splash of amber liquid.

“Well, excuse me for trying to savor something,” Bobby gruffed, smacking Dean lightly upside the head as he walked by. “Drink up, Sam.”

Sam picked up his own tumbler and gave it a sniff. “Phew, this is strong. You’re not holding back today are you?”

“You can’t hold back on a holiday, Sammy!” Dean said happily, leaning across the table to clink his glass against his brother’s and surrogate father’s. He took a long drink before setting his glass down with an ‘ahh’. “Though if you want to drive that new car out of here, then you  _ will _ hold back.You know what, just give me that glass.”

Sam rolled his eyes as his brother plucked his glass from his hand and took a long drink. “Whatever, jerk. Thank you so much again, for the car Bobby, I’ll take great care of her, I swear!” Sam jumped up from his chair and wrapped his arms around Bobby’s shoulders for the tenth time that morning.

“Stop doing that, boy!” Bobby huffed in annoyance, but his eyes were fond as he patted Sam on the arm. “Don’t thank me anyways, your brother paid for it in free labor. He’s the only reason it runs.”

Sam pulled back and stared at his brother beneath his bangs. “Is that true Dean?”

Uncomfortable with the attention, Dean picked his glass of whiskey up and took a small sip with a shrug. “It was nothing really,” he grumbled. “I had some time, but Bobby had the car and the parts.”

Sam fixed him with his bestbitch face. “Since when do you have free time Dean?”

Dean glanced at Bobby for help, but the older man ,just shrugged and picked up his glass. Bastard. “Fine, I may have gotten up early a few days a week or gone in on a Saturday when you were busy.”

“For the last three months,” Bobby added, glowering at Dean, as if to challenge him to disagree. 

Sam hurried around the table and threw his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “Thank you man, really.”

“You’re welcome, Sammy, just be safe and don’t make me regret it.” Dean took a sip of his whiskey, trying to shove down the feelings that came up when he thought about how old Sam was getting. “Now, where’s the pie?”

“It’s in the kitchen, and that’s where it’s going to stay until one of you idjits goes to get it,” Bobby grumbled, motioning to the kitchen behind him. 

Dean jerked his head towards the kitchen as he got up, Sam following dutifully behind him. They gathered a pile of plates along with the apple and pecan pies that Dean had woken up early to make. Baking had always been his time to try and reconnect with his mother. He didn’t remember much about her, but the smell of cinnamon and cooking fruit always took him right back to the family kitchen. Mary wearing her light blue apron with bright red cherries on it, as she directed little Dean to measure the spices, roll the dough, and stir the fruit. Making pie was his way to indulge in that nostalgia. 

Once Dean had portioned out a generous slice of each pie to everyone, a comfortable silence settled over the room as they dug in. 

“Have you decided on a school yet, Sam?” Bobby asked, wiping a few crumbles from his moustache.

Sam perked up at the chance to talk about his school admissions. “I just got my applications in for Stanford, Duke, Cornell, and KU.”

“Notice that one of those things is not like the others,” Dean said as he stabbed at his pie a little  _ too _ forcefully. Sam looked at him with his big Disney-esque doe eyes and Dean could feel the talk coming. “But it’s great, someone in the family should go off for bigger and better things.”

“Sure as hell won’t be me,” Bobby grumbled, reaching for the whiskey bottle to refill his glass. 

Dean held his glass out for his own refill. “Don’t look at me, I’m a high school drop out.”

Sam glared at Dean, lips pursed. “Stop doing that to yourself, Dean.”

“I’m not doing anything but telling the truth Sammy.” Dean picked his glass up and swirled the contents. 

“Sure, if you ignore the fact that you dropped out because dad died, got your GED, and became my guardian the second you turned eighteen.” Sam raised a finger for each achievement, carrying on, even as Dean squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “Help me out here, Bobby.”

“I’ve been telling that boy I’m proud of him since he pulled your ass out of the fire Sam. If he won’t listen to you then he sure as hell won’t listen to me.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Dean groused. 

“Shut it son, I’m not done talking,” Bobby snapped. “Now, your dad sure didn’t tell you enough, but Mary would’ve been proud of you, of both of you. Family was almost the most important thing to her, and you’ve both grown up into fine young men.”

Across the table, Sam sniffed at the mention of their mother. Dean stared pointedly at a spot on the table in front of him. His eyes were already burning and if he saw his kid brother crying he would be done for. 

He cleared his throat and took a sip of whiskey. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just telling it like it is.” Bobby adjusted the brim of his trucker’s cap before he picked his fork back up. 

“Sam, why don’t you tell Bobby what you made Jess for Christmas?” 

As Sam happily filled the silence, Dean settled back in his seat, his glass resting loosely in his hand on the edge of the table. It hit him how lucky he was. His family was small and found, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

XXX

By late afternoon, Dean was happily settled on the couch at home in a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old Star Wars tee. There was a fire burning in the fireplace next to him, and he had just poured himself some eggnog that was more bourbon than nog. Life was good. He was getting ready to cue up a marathon of Dr. Sexy, when Sam came downstairs, holding Zeppelin against his chest.

“And you’re sure you’re okay to drive in this weather?” Dean asked, watching as Sam gently sat his cat at Dean’s feet. The tabby sniffed the soft blanket before curling up against his legs. 

Sam went to grab his scarf and jacket from the entry hall, calling over his shoulder as he went. “I’ve made this drive like a hundred times, you don’t have to keep worrying.” Dean opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted. “You finished most of my drink earlier, anyways, and it’s not even snowing any more. It’ll be fine.”

Reaching down to scratch Zeppelin behind the ears, Dean looked dubiously up at his giant of a brother. “You’ll text me the minute you get there?”

Sam smiled fondly as he wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck. “Of course, Dean. Will you be okay?”

“Please, I have eggnog, a fire, and the Christmas marathon of Dr. Sexy. Add to that the fact that I’ll have my house to myself all night. What more could I possibly need?” Dean gave a cocky grin before turning back towards the television. 

“Whatever you say,” Sam grumbled, rolling his eyes as he turned towards the door. 

“Tell Jess and her folks Merry Christmas for me, bitch,” Dean called.

“Jerk!” 

With the slam of the front door and click of the lock, silence fell over the house. Dean took a second to enjoy the soft crackle of the fire and the sound of Zeppelin purring at his feet. He knew he should feel lonely, alone on Christmas, but it was nice to have a bit of peace and quiet in his normally hectic life. After a few minutes, he picked the remote back up and pressed play on the first recorded episode. 

A few episodes later, Dean was in the same position on the couch, only with a new glass of eggnog and Zeppelin happily asleep on his chest. Dean was pleasantly warm from the bourbon he’d been sipping and while he wasn’t exactly tipsy, he wasn’t sober either. He was about to pause for a restroom break when the tinny sound of AC/DC came from his pocket. Worried it might be Sam, he hurriedly pulled it out to check the Caller ID. Castiel Novak. He felt his heart rate pick up with anticipation as he pressed the accept button. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean answered, leaning back against the cushions and trying to ignore the dumb smile that he couldn’t get off his face. 

“Hello, Dean. Merry Christmas,” Castiel said, and God, his voice was just as rough and sexy over the phone as it was in person. 

“Merry Christmas, Cas. How was your family?” 

Dean grinned at the dramatic groan he got in response. “I just got home from Michael’s house and it was just - I don’t even want to think about them,” Castiel groused. “Tell me about your Christmas, instead.”

“It’s been nice. Last night, Ellen closed the Roadhouse early, and had a big group of Christmas orphans there. That woman throws one hell of a party. Then we went to Bobby’s this morning for lunch, and Sam left a few hours ago to go spend the night at his girlfriend’s.”

“He’s spending the night?” Castiel sounded uncertain even over the phone, no doubt his teacher side taking over. 

“Yeah, Jessica’s parents are pretty cool. Sam spends the night downstairs on the couch and heads home after lunch the next day. They’ve done this a few times for special occasions,” Dean explained. He knew it was an unusual arrangement, but Sam was a good kid, and had never given Dean a reason not to trust him. 

“So you’re alone on Christmas?” Castiel asked. “Isn’t that lonely?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders and stroked Zeppelin when he glared at Dean after being jostled. “It’s not so bad. Besides, aren’t you alone too?”

Castiel hummed. “It would appear I am.”

“Come over then, and we won't be alone anymore,” Dean said, the offer out of his mouth before he fully realized what he was saying. 

Castiel was quiet for a moment and Dean found that he was second guessing himself before the other man finally replied. 

“I can be there in twenty minutes.”

Dean’s stomach clenched in anticipation, but he did his best to sound cool. “Sounds great.”

A few seconds later, he was tucking his phone back into his pocket and wondering just what he had gotten himself into. Zeppelin stood, walked down to his lap, and meowed, as if to remind Dean that he was in pajama pants. 

“It’s just two friends hanging out, I’m not changing,” Dean said back before reaching for his drink and trying to ignore the unimpressed look from his cat. “And, now, I’m talking to the cat. Great.”

The following twenty minutes crawled by, Dean finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on the television. It didn’t help that he’d probably seen each episode of Dr. Sexy a dozen times. He got up and walked towards the stairs with the intent to change his clothes at least four times before sighing and making his way back to the couch. Despite everything in his heart telling him they were more than friends, he refused to see the night as a date. Because if they were dating  _ on Christmas, _ then they were way more than friends who occasionally made out. And if they were more than friends, Dean wasn’t sure how to handle that. 

The ringing of the doorbell snapped Dean from his thoughts and he leapt from the couch in excitement. He winced at a loud yowl and looked back to see Zeppelin glaring at him from the floor. 

“Sorry Zepp,” he mumbled as he bent to gingerly lift the cat back on to the couch. “How do I look?”

Hopping back to his spot on the blanket, Zeppelin let out a soft  _ meh _ before curling up and tucking his tail over his face. 

“Great, that was really helpful,” Dean grumbled, as he hurried to the door. His heart was racing when he paused in front of the door and took a deep breath. 

When he opened the door, anxiety and arousal hit him like a punch in the gut. Castiel was breathtakingly beautiful under the soft glow of the porch light. At some point in the last hour, snow had started to fall again, and flakes were stuck to his dark grey beanie and his criminally long lashes. He was bundled up in a black pea coat, and instead of dressing down, he was wearing light wash jeans that hugged his muscular thighs in all the right ways. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said with a soft smile, pulling Dean from his slow study.

Dean cleared his throat and quickly looked up to meet the other man’s gaze. “Hey, Cas, come on in, it’s freezing.”

Castiel stepped inside, brushing Dean’s shoulder with his own as he moved past him. “Yes, I didn’t realize we would be getting quite this much snow today,” he said as he began to remove layers.

Dean had to bite back a whimper as Castiel pulled off his beanie and unbuttoned his coat. If Castiel’s hair was normally artfully disheveled, it was nothing compared to how he looked with hat hair. Dean’s fingers itched to run through those locks and see if he looked the same after being thoroughly fucked. 

“I, uh,” Dean started, tearing his eyes away from the black, long-sleeved tee stretched tight across Castiel’s chest. “I see you didn’t get the memo that Christmas day is for lazy clothes only.”

Grinning, Castiel followed him into the warm living room. “No, but you’re certainly doing a good enough job for both of us.” 

Dean scoffed and held a hand up to his chest in mock hurt. “I am the paradigm of Christmas coziness here buddy.”

“I apologize, Dean,” Castiel said, as he knelt and offered his hand for Zeppelin to sniff. “I assure you that I would correct my attire if I were able to do so.”

“I’m sure I have a pair of sweatpants or pajama pants that would fit you,” Dean said suddenly, before really thinking his offer through. which was starting to be a bad habit where Castiel was involved. “You know, if you want.”

Castiel studied him for a moment, his head tilted familiarly to the side. “Yes, I think that would be nice if you don’t mind.”

“Cool, I’ll uh, I’ll go grab them,” Dean said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. He didn’t wait for a response before scurrying up the stairs towards his room. 

Once he was safely standing in front of his dresser he took a deep breath. It was no big deal, friends totally shared clothes sometimes. Yup, no big deal. Nodding once to himself, Dean grabbed the first pair of flannel pajama pants he could find before heading back downstairs. 

“Here you go, man,” Dean said as he held out the pants. “Bathroom is around the corner by the kitchen.”

Castiel took the pants, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smirk as he accepted them. “I’ll be right back.”

As Castiel made his way towards the kitchen, Dean crossed back to his seat from earlier and drained that remaining dregs of his egg nog. The idea of Castiel in his clothes was starting to do things to him, and if he was going to have to sit next to him all night, Dean was going to need another drink. 

“Hey, do you want a drink?” Dean called as he passed by the bathroom door on the way to the kitchen. When Castiel replied in the affirmative, he moved on, pulling eggnog out of the fridge. 

He was just about done stirring in a generous shot of bourbon into each glass, when the bathroom door clicked open. “How do I look?”

Dean’s mouth went dry, and he was suddenly very glad that there was a large counter between them. Dean’s pajama pants were a little large on Castiel, so they hung dangerously low on his hips. Whenever the other man moved, his shirt rode up just enough to give a flash of skin, and teased the shadow of his hip bone. Combined with the idea of Castiel in his clothes, his skin touching where Dean’s normally went, Dean was a goner. 

“Yeah, you look much more Christmas-y,” Dean replied, his voice coming out rough. “Here, uh, grab a drink.”

“I assume eggnog is another of your unwritten rules for today?”

“Hell, yeah,” Dean said, finally feeling comfortable enough to leave the cover of the counter and lead the way back to the living room. “You have to have eggnog on Christmas Cas.”

“What are the other rules I should know?” Castiel asked, his voice sounding genuinely curious. Dean remembered how Castiel had described his holidays with his family and realized that the other man had probably never had a traditional Christmas. Well, he was about to get the full Winchester experience. 

“There should always be a fire going in the fireplace,” Dean started, ticking things off his fingers as he went. “Spending the days at Bobby’s is a given but it’s a little late for that. Comfy blankets on the couch are a must, as well. Snow falling outside is nice but it’s a little difficult to control what Mother Nature is going to do each year. Lastly, you have to watch at least part of the Dr. Sexy Christmas episode marathon.”

Castiel nodded along, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he were taking mental notes of everything Dean said. Dean plopped down on his end of the couch and kicked up his legs. Castiel followed suit, scooping Zeppelin up and out of the way, so he could slot his legs next to Dean’s. Dean bit back a smile as Zepp hopped up to Castiel’s chest before stretching up and planting his front paw near the bottom of Castiel’s throat. He gave the newcomer a few cursory sniffs before apparently deciding him worthy and butting his head against Castiel’s chin. 

“I think you found yourself a new friend there, Cas.” Dean couldn’t help but grin and pulled his phone out of his pocket at the sight of his cat demanding attention from Castiel. He snapped a quick shot of the pair, before Zeppelin pushed away and hopped down to curl up in Castiel’s lap. 

“Yes, I suppose I have,” Castiel hummed, looking pleased at the small tabby in his lap. He gently stroked down her back and scratched behind her ears. For a moment, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the heavy rumble of Zeppelin’s purring. 

When Dean realized that he’d been staring for far too long, he turned around to grab the remote. “Okay, so how far into Dr. Sexy have you seen?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen any of it,” Castiel replied softly as if he knew that was the wrong answer. 

Dean gaped at him for a second before shaking his head lightly. “Wow, you live so far under a rock man. Okay so here’s what you need to know.”

Dean described the intricacies of the story revolving around Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo. Castiel nodded along, but Dean noticed his brow raise and his head tilt further as the plot got more twisted. “Okay so it’s not the most believable but it won three Emmys,” Dean insisted. 

“I think I understand enough to start wherever you wish,” Castiel replied, looking down at Zeppelin before turning towards the television. 

“Just stop me if you have any questions.” Dean pressed play 

“I’m sure I’ll be able to manage the intricate plot of a medical drama,” Castiel deadpanned, one brow defiantly raised.

Dean rolled his eyes and settled back to watch the screen. This was one of his favorite episodes but he was having a hard time concentrating. Castiel’s sock clad feet kept twitching and brushing against Dean’s calf. Their calves were flush and Dean felt like he was on fire from the small point of contact. After what felt like only a few minutes, the episode was almost over. Dr. Sexy was about to kiss Dr. Piccolo in the snow before the screen faded to black. 

Dean couldn’t help but turn to watch Castiel watch the television. He could hear the small gasp from Dr. Piccolo that signaled the start of the kiss but Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away. Castiel was watching the show with an intensity he normally reserved for operas or one of the dense books from his library. It warmed Dean’s heart to see the other man trying so hard to understand something Dean liked. 

“It’s okay if you didn’t like it,” Dean started as he hit the stop button on the rolling credits. 

Castiel turned and fixed Dean with a look that clearly said what he thought of Dean’s assumptions. “I enjoyed it. I found the dichotomy between Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo to be fascinating. His world view may appear to be more cavalier and insouciant, but deep down he cares passionately about each of his patients. On the other hand Dr. Piccolo presents as an ardent doctor who will do anything for her patients, but inside she is disinclined to break the rules like Dr. Sexy. The fact that they end up entangled in romantic situations in every episode is quite compelling.”

Dean blinked once, then twice. “Okay,” he said slowly. “No need to write a thesis on it there man; it’s okay to just enjoy something because it’s fun.”

Castiel leveled a look at Dean before deadpanning, “I enjoyed it, it was fun.”

Letting out a huff, Dean kicked at Castiel’s thigh. Castiel nudged him back and suddenly they were in an all out footsie war. After a minute, Dean conceded defeat. 

“Alright, smart ass, you okay on your drink, there?”

Castiel looked down at his nearly empty glass of eggnog. He tried to look cheerful, but Dean couldn’t miss the grimace and slight frown that pulled at his lips. “Um, I think I’m okay.”

“You hate eggnog don’t you,” Dean said more than asked. 

Taking a second, Castiel studied Dean’s face before looking back at his glass. His shoulders fell as he looked up at Dean with puppy eyes that would put Sam to shame. “I really do.”

Letting out a huff of laughter, Dean swung his legs off the couch. “Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“You said that eggnog was one of the Christmas rules,” Castiel said, looking sincere. “I want to do Christmas right.”

Dean felt his heart throb with affection for the man sitting next to him. “Cas, you can still have a great Christmas if you hate eggnog.” He let his hand idly rub Castiel’s thigh, just above his knee. “I won’t even report you to the Christmas police.”

Castiel huffed out a sigh and leveled Dean with another stare that clearly stated just what he thought of Dean. Dean smirked and shot him a wink before standing up and reaching for Castiel’s glass. 

“How’s spiked hot chocolate sound instead?”

Castiel practically melted back against the couch cushions as he beamed up at Dean. “That sounds wonderful Dean, thank you.”

The way Castiel was watching him set Dean’s heart beating faster and his stomach to churn. “It’s nothing, I’ll, uh, be right back,” Dean stammered as he slowly backed out of the living room. 

Safely in the kitchen, Dean took a second to lean against the counter and breathe. Even doing the simplest things, Castiel still got him riled up in a way Dean had never experienced. Taking one last deep breath, Dean pushed himself back to standing and made himself busy filling the kettle that Sam had insisted that they buy. 

As he listened to the bubbles begin to rise, Dean suddenly remembered the package that had been sitting in his closet for the past two weeks. That neatly wrapped box, courtesy of a little help from Sam, that had been causing him anxiety ever since he’d wrapped it. 

He snuck quietly towards the stairs before taking a moment to peer around the corner and into the living room. Castiel was just where Dean had left him, curled up on the couch and scratching Zeppelin under the chin like he belonged there. And damn if a little part of Dean didn’t feel like he did. Castiel belonged in his home, in his pajamas, and playing with his stupid brother’s cat. With a shake of his head, Dean started to make his way upstairs.

The package was sitting in his closet, hidden under a pile of forgotten clothes. No sooner had he taken a deep breath, grabbed the box, and turned towards the door, the kettle began to screech from downstairs. 

Dean bounded down the steps and skidded into the kitchen, just as Castiel called out a questioning, “Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah, Cas, yeah, it’s fine,” Dean hollered back, trying not to sound out of breath as he pulled the kettle off the heat. “Just stay there and I’ll be out in a minute!”

Dean could practically hear the skeptical eye roll that Castiel was undoubtedly giving him. He hurried his way through mixing a mug of cocoa and adding a splash of bourbon, all the while trying to ignore the package that was sitting so innocently on the counter next to him. He took one last deep breath before he silently reassured himself. There was no need to be nervous. It was just a present, it didn’t have to mean anything. Friends give each other presents for Christmas. Nope, no big deal. 

“Nut up, Winchester,” he muttered to himself as he tucked the present under his arm before grabbing their drinks, “I am one with The Force and The Force is with me.”

Taking one final breath, Dean plastered a smile to his face as he turned the corner into the living room. 

“Alright, here’s one cocoa for the egg nog haters in the room,” Dean teased, holding out the hot mug,

Castiel rolled his eyes but accepted it with a fond smile. “Thank you Dean.”

“No problem,” Dean muttered, feeling almost on autopilot as he took his seat back on the couch and took a long gulp of his egg nog for courage. “I uh-, well here, this is for you.”

Castiel looked questioningly at the present that Dean was holding out, his brow furrowed. “Dean, you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Just take it, man,” Dean insisted, shaking the box gently for emphasis. 

“But I didn’t get anything for you,” Castiel mumbled, sounding almost hurt that he had nothing to offer in return. 

Brow still furrowed, Cas finally acquiesced and accepted the box. Sam had done a great job wrapping the medium sized box. Immaculately covered in red paper with frolicking reindeer, all topped with a bright, sparkly gold bow. Even Dean had to begrudgingly admit that it looked nice.

“Sam wrapped this, didn’t he?” Castiel immediately asked.

Feigning insult, Dean clutched his chest. “Are you insinuating that I am incapable of simply wrapping a present?”

Castiel looked down at the package and then back up at Dean, his face blank. “Yes. That’s exactly what I am insinuating.”

“Hrmph,” Dean grumbled, petulantly slouching against the couch cushions as he continued to fake his hurt feelings. 

Castiel leveled him with his best teacher face and Dean couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Okay, yeah, Sammy maybe helped a little, but I picked out the present and that’s what actually matters.”

“I’m just touched that you wanted it to look nice, let alone that you got me a present at all. I’m also pretty sure you wouldn’t go through the same trouble for Sam or Bobby.” Castiel said, softly, as he gently stroked a finger along the edge of the box. 

Dean could feel his face heat up, as a blush spread across the cheeks. “Just open it, man,” he grumbled softly.

Cas’ warm hand on his jolted Dean out of his anxiety-fueled fixation on whether he had done the right thing. But, as Castiel ran his thumb over Dean’s knuckles, he finally thought that maybe, just maybe, it might all be okay. A few seconds later though, the warm contact was gone and Dean found himself feeling cold from the mere loss of Castiel’s hand. 

It turned out, though, that Castiel was one of those people who delicately unwrapped their presents. He slid his nail underneath the tape and carefully peeled it open. It was an agonizingly slow and precise process.

“Come on, man, wrapping paper is made for tearing apart!”

Castiel paused, leaving the paper halfway unwrapped. He frowned as he gently fingered the bow on top. “Sorry, I’m afraid that Christmas, and holidays in general, were strictly controlled when I was young. Mother could be very authoritarian, so we were never allowed to do something as crass as just tear paper off packages. After she passed away, Christmas gifts generally came in an envelope.”

Dean bit down on the inside of his cheek, mentally tamping down his instinct to criticize the crappy job Castiel’s parents had done in letting their kids be kids. Like he had any room to talk. But even at the height of his father’s drinking, Dean or Bobby had made sure that Sam always had  _ some kind _ of Christmas. 

Forcing a smile, Dean bumped his knee against Castiel’s. “It’s never too late to try something new.”

Castiel stared at the package for a moment, brow furrowed, as if he were making a grave decision. Finally, he looked up with a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re right,” he said, before ripping back a piece of paper with a flourish. 

The rest of the package was unwrapped in seconds and Castiel was tearing through the scotch tape that was holding an old Amazon box closed. As he pulled off the top layer of tissue paper, there was a sharp intake of breath. 

Inside, nestled in layers of white tissue paper, was a deep, ocean blue cashmere scarf. If it happened to be the same color of Castiel’s eyes, then that was purely coincidence. Yup, totally not on purpose. 

Castiel reached out to touch it, his fingers shaking slightly. “Dean, it’s lovely,” he breathed. 

Feigning nonchalance, Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nothing really. Sam dragged me to this Christmas market they have outside Kansas City every year. You know the type of place, packed with people, lots of those booths and Christmas joy shoved up your ass around every corner. Sam insists we go buy our tree there every year, and I guess I just thought of you when I saw it,” Dean said, realizing that he was babbling. 

He looked down, away from Castiel, and was suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on the blanket in his lap. “I thought it would match your eyes,” he quietly admitted. “Or some shit like that. It’s nothing really, though.”

“Well, either way, how does it look?” Castiel asked, as he wound the scarf around his neck.

Dean ran a hand over his mouth as he was rendered momentarily speechless by the man sitting next to him. “It, uh,” Dean started before clearing his throat. “It looks pretty fucking good.”

Castiel positively beamed under the praise. “Thank you, Dean, really. I wish I had some way to reciprocate,” Castiel said, his fingers never leaving the ends of the scarf. 

“Well,” Dean started as he leaned forward to pluck the bow from the discarded paper. With a wry grin, he reached up to stick the sparkly ribbon to the top of Castiel’s head. “There we go. Now, you’re my present.”

Castiel’s look turned almost predatory as he met Dean’s gaze. He placed the empty box on to the floor with the discarded papers before moving Zeppelin off his lap. “Well, then, I guess I’d better deliver.”

Unconsciously, Dean leaned farther forward and tugged gently on the loose ends of Castiel’s new scarf. He couldn’t decide where to look. The scarf really did bring out the different shades of blue in the other man’s eyes. But then there were Castiel’s lips, soft and plush, if slightly chapped. Dean barely noticed his own tongue darting out to wet his own lips. 

“I can think of a few ways that you could make good on that promise.”

Castiel pushed up onto his knees and shuffled closer until they were mere inches apart. Soft, warm hands cupped the sides of Dean’s face and held him still as Castiel closed the last remaining distance to brush their lips together. Dean sighed into the kiss, his right hand moving to tangle in Castiel’s short hair while his left hand pulled gently on the scarf.

The kiss was soft and sweet, gentle in a way where most of their kisses were frantic and heady. There was something freeing about the knowledge that they had the whole house to themselves and all the time in the world. They were finally alone in the way that they’d both been craving.

Sliding his tongue along the seam of Dean’s lips, Castiel silently asked permission for more, a request that Dean was more than willing to grant. Their soft kisses turned deeper as their tongues slid against each other, each man fighting for dominance. Castiel dropped a hand to rest on the back of Dean’s neck, his fingers brushing through the soft hair at the nape of Dean’s neck, while also serving to hold him close. 

Dean let out a soft groan before ripping the blanket off their laps and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, leaving Zeppelin to meow indignantly. Never breaking the kiss, Dean grabbed Castiel by the hips and pulled him forward, until the other man was straddling his lap. 

“God, Cas,” Dean panted as he pulled back to lean his forehead against Castiel’s and tried to catch his breath. He could practically hear his blood pumping and found himself momentarily amazed that there was any blood in his body that wasn’t rushing towards his rapidly hardening dick. 

“Mmm,” Castiel hummed in response as he pressed a never-ending trail of kisses across Dean’s jaw and down his neck. 

Letting out a low growl, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut when Castiel bit and nibbled at the junction between his neck and shoulder before soothing the tender skin with his tongue. Every instinct in his body fought between the urge to take Castiel to the closest flat surface and ride him until they both could hardly breathe. But the strongest urge was to be quiet and discreet so that Sam wouldn’t hear. He fought down the first yearning by reminding himself that this had been a long time coming and Castiel deserved his time and attention. The second urge died when he happily remembered that his brother was gone and he could be as loud as the hell he wanted.

Castiel sucked and nipped at the skin harder, causing Dean to let his head lull to side and bark out a loud curse. “Fuck! Cas, baby, want you so bad,” he groaned, too blissed out to care that he was practically begging, his hips rolling up in a desperate search for friction. 

“You have no idea how insatiable you make me feel, Dean,” Cas replied, his voice an octave lower than normal and thick as sin. He pulled back just enough to pull off his new scarf before diving back in to devour Dean in any way he could find. “I’ve wanted you for so long. Spending so much time without being able to touch you, it’s been torture.”

Dean most definitely did  _ not _ bite back a whine at Castiel’s confession but, as he pressed their lips back together, he couldn’t help but think how much he agreed. He’d been itching to get his hands on Castiel since that damned car wash. “Same, Cas,” Dean admitted, once he could force himself to break the kiss. “You have no idea how sexy you are.”

Dean’s fingers toyed at the hem of Castiel’s shirt. He thought his heart was going to pound right out of his chest when he bit his lip and asked, “May I?” He suddenly felt like a damn teenager all over again. 

Castiel nodded and covered Dean’s fingers with his own as together, they stripped him of his shirt and tossed it to the floor along with his new scarf. 

Almost afraid to look, Dean caught the other man’s eyes and felt his breath catch in his throat. Castiel’s pupils were blown wide, leaving just a thin ring of blue visible. His lips were swollen and kiss-bitten and his cheeks were flushed. If that wasn’t bad enough, Castiel’s already normally messy hair was completely disheveled from Dean’s fingers. That was nothing compared to the seemingly endless expanse of skin just inches from him. 

Dean had seen other attractive men before, but, God help him, he’d never seen anyone as gorgeous as Castiel was in that moment. Leaning back in, Dean licked and kissed up Castiel’s neck. After tugging gently at Castiel’s earlobe with his teeth, Dean whispered, “lay back”. 

With a knowing, and hopeful, smirk, Castiel backed off Dean’s lap, and laid back on the sofa. Dean raised a leg so that their places were reversed, Dean now straddling Castiel’s upper thighs. And hell, if Dean thought the view was good before, it was nothing compared to the way Castiel looked now, spread out on his sofa.

Castiel’s chest and abs were firm and lightly muscled, with a sprinkling of dark hair that thinned out as it led down past his belly button and into his pants line. Dean’s pajama pants were a little large on him, so they hung low to show off just enough of the sharp v of his hip bones to tease what was lower. 

Even worse was the large tent in the front of his pants.Once again, something about Castiel’s hard cock touching the same fabric where Dean’s usually went completely short circuited Dean’s brain. Just thinking about closing the last few inches and finally getting his hands on Castiel’s hard length was enough to make his hands itch and his mouth water. 

Without a thought, Dean stripped off his own t-shirt and threw it in the direction of their growing pile of clothing. He quickly readjusted himself, sighing softly at even the slightest touch to his aching erection.

“Are you going to spend all night just looking or are you going to come down here?” Castiel drawled, his brow raised. 

Dean gave him a wicked grin in return, before stroking his cock again, just to be an asshole. “I don’t know Cas, it’s a pretty good view, maybe I’ll just look. 

Letting out a low growl, Castiel surged forward and grabbed Dean by the biceps before tugging Dean down with him. “You’re a tease and a brat, did you know that?” Castiel said in his deepest and most commanding voice. It was his Commanding Officer voice, and his teacher voice, and it  _ did things _ to Dean that he wasn’t ready to question. Dean leaned over him, each arm braced on the sides of Castiel’s head. 

“Are you saying you don’t like it?” Dean asked, giving his most innocent, sincere smile as he rolled his hips against Castiel’s. 

Castiel could only gasp in response, his hands flying down to grip Dean’s hips. His grip was firm and Dean found himself hoping that each point of contact would leave a bruise for later, just a small visible reminder that only he could see. Dean held himself painfully still though, still smiling down at this gorgeous man beneath him who was so clearly desperate for more. 

“Dean,” Castiel growled, his hips lifting almost involuntarily off the couch in search of friction. “Move. Now.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Dean hummed, leaning in to press a kiss to Castiel’s lips at the same time that he gave a long, languorous roll of his hips. 

Both men let out deep groans as their cocks brushed. Dean’s head dropped to hang between his arms as he rocked his hips again and again. The friction between them and the feeling of Castiel hard against him was incredible. Why the hell hadn’t he done this sooner?

“Dean,” Castiel panted as his hips bucked up to meet Dean’s. “Sit up for a second.”

“Don’t want to,” Dean murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of Castiel’s ear. “Feels too good.”

Castiel grinned at him mischievously, as he placed a palm on Dean’s chest and gently pushed. “Trust me, this will be worth it, and I promise that if you don’t like it, then we can go back to humping like a pair of teenagers.”

Leaning forward one last time, Dean lightly tugged on Castiel’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Okay, I trust you.” 

As he sat up, Dean took the opportunity to trace his fingers down every inch of tantalizing skin in front of him before he finally sat back onto his heels. His lust addled brain was racing with dozens of ideas of what he wanted to do to the man beneath him. But, even with his imagination running wild, he was pleasantly surprised when Castiel lifted his own hips up off the couch, just long enough to push his underwear and pajama pants down to his thighs. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathed, his eyes locked on the newly-revealed skin. Castiel’s cock was thick and cut and stood proudly from a small nest of black curls. The skin was flushed dark red, except for the gleam of the precome leaking from the slit. Dean’s fingers itched to touch it and he was pretty sure that he’d never wanted anything in his mouth so badly. 

“Your turn,” Castiel coaxed, looking up at Dean with kind eyes, as though he was afraid to spook him. While he spoke though, Castiel couldn’t resist the urge to slowly stroke himself, his thumb swiping to gather up the precome, his other hand resting on Dean’s hip. 

Unable to tear his eyes away from the fucking gorgeous man and cock in front of him that was just so damn close, Dean pushed his own flannel pants and boxers down to his knees, exposing his own hard cock. Unlike Castiel he was uncut and a little longer where Castiel was thicker. Refusing to go down the rabbit hole of anxiety about whether or not he was good enough, something he’d never worried about before, Dean leaned back down, a hand on each side of Castiel’s head once again. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Dean breathed, moving in to press a soft kiss to Castiel’s lips. 

“You should see how you look Dean, you’re like a dream come true,” Castiel murmured before gently rolling his hips. 

Their bare cocks touched, skin to skin for the first time and while it set off fireworks under Dean’s skin it sent his mind reeling.

*

_ “Come on, Benny, fuck me, I won’t break,” Dean whined, grinding his hips forward, desperate for contact.  _

_ “Patience now, cher,” his buddy replied. They had only met two months before when the new semester began and Benny had moved to Lawrence from a small town in Louisiana. The pair had become fast friends. It was only due to a heavily drunken game of truth or dare a week before that they had realized that they shared certain...proclivities.  _

_ Never one for patience, Dean pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down to his ankles. “Come on, you know we don’t have more than twenty minutes, so what’s it gonna be?” _

_ Benny unbuckled his belt, but stopped before it was completely undone. “This is your first time with another fella ain't it cher?  _

_ Frustrated, a little embarrassed at his lack of experience, and so horny he could hardly think straight, Dean grabbed at Benny’s belt. “It’s fine,” he growled, frustrated.  _

_ The pesky jeans finally got undone and slid down lean legs. Dean licked his lips at his first sight of a hard cock that wasn’t his own. His mind was in overdrive, as he imagined everything he wanted to do to his friend, hell, the things he wanted to have done to himself.  _

_ Best to start slow, he decided, as they slowly shuffled closer until they were barely touching. It was clumsy and awkward with their pants around their ankles but neither teen could be bothered to care. They kissed tentatively at first, like this was the first time all over again. Dean could feel his nerves starting to get to him but clawed and pushed his way through them to reach out and just brush his fingers down Benny’s cock. _

_ The other boy took in a small gasp of air that went straight to Dean’s head. Desperate to hear what other sounds his friend could make, Dean took Benny fully in his hand and slowly started to stroke. Benny made small groans for a moment, before he reached out to return the favor.  _

_ Their kisses were wet and sloppy, technique giving way to need and passion. For those few minutes, it was like they were the only two in the world.  _

_ Unfortunately, just as it started to feel as though nothing and no one else really mattered, the door to Sam and Dean’s shared room slammed open.  _

_ Dean jumped back, releasing his hold on Benny like he’d been burned. He took a second to pull up his pants before he turned towards the door, praying the whole time that it was only Sam. As usual, luck was not on his side.  _

_ John Winchester stood in the doorway, leaning slightly against the doorframe. His eyes were bloodshot and wide with barely controlled rage. Dean was pretty sure he could smell the whiskey on him from across the room.  _

_ “What the fuck is going on here?” John roared.  _

_ The teens scrambled to fix their clothes. “It was nothing, Sir,” Dean said with as much bravado as he could muster, which was essentially none. He knew he was screwed, but he could buy time for Benny to get out before things got really bad.  _

_ “Nothing my ass. Do you think I’m stupid boy?” John took a slightly wobbly step forward.  _

_ “No, Sir,” Dean replied quietly, trying to have a silent conversation with Benny and imploring him to leave  _

_ It turned out that John was one step ahead of them, and he quickly rounded on Benny. Dean instinctively took a protective step between them. His heart was racing, and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up, but it was one thing for John to take his rage out on Dean - Hell, he’d been doing that for nearly a decade by then - but Dean refused to let his friend get hurt.  _

_ “Get out of my way, Dean,” John threatened, even if the effect was slightly lessened by the hiccup halfway through.  _

_ “No, it’s not his fault, it was mine. It was a stupid dare by some of the jerks on the baseball team. I convinced Benny to go along with it. It was nothing, no feelings or any crap like that,” Dean lied, hating every word that came out of his mouth.  _

_ “Dean,” Benny said, his voice soft, as he placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder to offer whatever support he could.  _

_ “Get your queer hand off him, and get out of my house, you faggot!” John bellowed, pointing a shaking finger towards the door. “And don’t you come near my son again, or I’ll tan your hide.” _

_ Quietly, Benny moved quickly around John and to the door, pausing only to make a ‘call me’ motion on his way out. His footsteps on the stairs were soft, but in the tense silence of Dean’s room, it felt deafening. The slam of the front door closing was apparently the final straw that sent John back into his rage.  _

_ John's voice was deadly calm when he turned back to Dean. “Now, are you going to explain what the hell I really walked in on here, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” _

_ Dean could feel himself shrink down, even though he was practically the same height as John by now.  _

_ “You’re right, I lied. I have no excuse, Sir. Benny is gay and I don’t know - after spending so much time with him, I guess I thought I wanted to try.” Trying the truth for once, Dean immediately started to backpedal once he could see the vein in his father’s forehead start to rise.  _

_ “It was fucking awful, though,” he lied. “Just when you came, in I was about to call the whole thing off, and tell him to take his queer ass home.” _

_ The words caused bile to rise in Dean’s throat, and for a moment he thought he really might throw up. After what felt like hours, John finally moved, stepping forward to close the distance between them. A small hopeful part of Dean hoped that he was going to get off with a clap on the shoulder, also known as what passed for a hug in the Winchester home.  _

_ Instead, his head was whipped to the side, with a loud crack echoing in the quiet room. Dean could even feel the extra sting from the wedding ring that his father had never taken off. Dean wished this wasn’t something that he’d experienced before but he was already tensed for the next backhand to come.  _

_ “You will never bring another man into this house, boy,” John growled. He grabbed Dean by the short hairs on the back of his head and pulled him upright until they were eye to eye. “I will not tolerate a faggot in my home.” _

_ Dean nodded dumbly, his mind shutting down and going into survival mode. The final slap caught him off guard, and he had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming out in pain. _

_ “And even more important, you will not breathe a word of this or your … tendencies to anyone, especially your brother. If I hear that you’ve breathed a word to Sam or if I ever catch you with another man again, you will be kicked out of this home faster than you can say cocksucker.” _

_ Dean nodded and muttered a “yes Sir” before staggering toward his bed- _

_ * _

“Dean? Dean, come back to me,” a soft, soothing voice said, breaking through his panicked thoughts. He even thought he could feel strong hands rubbing over his biceps and upper back. That was impossible though, he was alone, back in his room. It was just him and his deadbeat father at home and his dad had never spoken to him like this. 

“Shh, it’s alright Dean. You’re safe,” the voice continued. It sounded so familiar though. Cas maybe?

“That’s it, Dean, you’re having a panic attack and I think you might be having a flashback to something, but you’re okay. You’re safe here,” the disembodied Castiel voice said. 

Imaginary Castiel lifted Dean’s hand and placed it against his chest. “Breathe with me now, okay?”

Dean tried to take the same slow deep breaths that Castiel led him through and slowly it helped solidify his reality. He wasn’t actually back in his childhood home - well, okay, he was but only because it had been willed to them, but they had made it different. Made it better. Made it a real home. He also wasn’t a teenager desperate for his father’s approval.

“Cas,” Dean croaked. His voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming or crying. He looked at the other man and couldn’t help but give him a small, watery smile. “You’re really here.”

Castiel gazed at him fondly and Dean noticed that, at some point while he had been out of it, Castiel had been able to pull their pants back up and pulled the blanket over Dean’s shoulders. He’d been unable to move Dean off his lap, but had scooted back just enough to sit upright. 

“Of course I’m here, Dean,” he whispered, cupping Dean’s jaw in one hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

At that, Dean felt the dam in his chest break and a flood of emotions hit him. Dean wasn’t even aware of the fact that he was crying again, until Castiel brushed a tear away with his thumb. And wasn’t that embarrassing?

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Castiel asked, as though he was afraid that he would spook Dean. 

Dean thought for a moment. His initial instinct was to bristle at the insinuation that anything was wrong and to shut down completely. But the softer, stronger voice in his heart won out to remind him that Castiel really did care and probably had his own experience with flashbacks. Besides, Dean had just done who knows what in front of the other man and Castiel was still there. How much worse could it get?

“It’s, uh.” Dean paused, trying to look anywhere but at Castiel’s face. “Fuck.”

“Come here,” Castiel coaxed softly as he pulled Dean around into his lap until they were chest to back and leaning against the arm rest. Dean was on top, nestled in between Castiel’s legs with Castiel’s arms wrapped gently, and protectively around his waist. Dean pulled the soft blanket from where it had dropped to the floor and draped it over them, pulling it up over their bare chests. 

“Better?”

After a split second to think about it, Dean nodded. “Yes, much better.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Dean’s mind still racing, as he listened to the crackle of the fire. 

“It was my dad,” Dean began, squeezing his eyes shut as though if he couldn’t see Castiel then he wasn’t really there. “After mom died, he turned to the bottle, and, well - he wasn’t the best dad or the nicest drunk.”

Castiel hummed along in all the right places, as Dean began to open up, the words pouring out. One hand rested steadily on Dean’s chest, while the thumb of his other hand drew designs on Dean’s bicep. He did his best to stay calm and keep being a grounding presence when Dean mentioned the abuse he’d suffered for both his and Sam’s sakes. 

The arms around him tensed when Dean finally got to the story of how John had caught him literally with his pants down. He could feel Castiel’s breathing pick up when he continued on to mention the ongoing abuse and neglect Dean had experienced at hia father’s hands. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Castiel breathed when Dean finally finished. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Dean bristled again on instinct. “He was a single father doing the best he could with two children. Don’t judge what you can’t understand.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Dean knew they were ridiculous. He would never wish his childhood on anyone, and now he had sweet, and endlessly understanding Castiel. Castiel, who was just trying to understand and be there for him and Dean was biting his head off.

“I’m sorry, Dean you’re-.”

“No, Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean interrupted, placing a hand over Castiel’s on his chest. “I know what your childhood was like, or at least what you’ve told me, so I know that you, more than anyone else gets it. So, I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you sooner and that I bit your head off. Things were going so nicely before, as well.” Dean turned to look up at Castiel with what he hoped was a leer.

Castiel looked down at him, chewing his lip. “Dean, you just had a major breakdown due to your previous treatment with your sexuality. I know how exhausting flashbacks can be, and I fully understand that this is not the sexiest time. Hell, you can start a new episode of Dr. Sexy, and as long as you pass me my cocoa then that would be perfect. I’ve always wanted to just take the time to hold you.”

Dean felt his heart practically do a somersault in his chest as his stomach filled with butterflies. He was struck again with just how deeply Castiel cared about him. 

He turned on his right hip so that he could look up at Castiel, their lips mere inches apart. “Castiel Novak, I’ve waited almost a decade of my life wanting to properly get my hand on someone else’s cock. Are you really going to deprive me?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned in to press a kiss to Dean’s temple as he carded fingers through short, sandy brown hair. “Dean, really, I know how tempting it can be to jump into something after a panic attack just to get some relief. I can’t handle the idea of taking that step with you, only for it to be something you regret later.”

Dean nodded, numbly. He knew Castiel was right, but that didn’t make the sting of rejection any easier. “You’re right,” Dean eventually whispered. And if he hadn’t already been sure than the soft look that Castiel was giving him would have been enough. “So, about that episode of Dr. Sexy?”

“You get it started,” Castiel said as he pushed Dean forward and awkwardly swung his leg around. “I’ll be right back.”

Dean watched the other man pad silently in his socked feet towards the kitchen. At his feet Zeppelin, mewed at him questioningly.

“It’s alright bud, he’ll be right back,” Dean said, unsure who he was reassuring.

Once the next episode was queued and ready to play, Castiel came back with a tall glass of water in each hand. Dean tried not to focus on how natural it felt to have Castiel moving around in his home like that. 

“Here, you need to hydrate,” Castiel insisted softly, pressing one of the glasses into Dean’s hand.

Dean wanted to protest, he really did. He wanted to insist that he could take care of his own needs and currently his body - and mind - was saying that it wanted more bourbon. But all of his protests fell away once he took that first, cool sip. Before he realized it, Dean had drained his cup only to have Castiel replace it with his own full glass.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean mumbled, still a little uncomfortable with the idea of him being taken care of for once. “Apparently, I needed that.”

Castiel shrugged as he placed both glasses down on the coffee table. “I know I’m always parched after I have a good crying spell.”

Dean bristled immediately at the insinuation before Castiel laid a calming hand on his thigh. “It’s okay to let it out sometimes Dean. I know you’re strong, but sometimes it’s okay to let someone else take care of you.”

“What, uh,” Dean stammered, looking back at the blanket in his lap. “I just hate this, you know?”

Castiel’s gaze was kind, as he cupped Dean’s cheek. “Trust me, baby, I know. The first six months after I came home from overseas I was a wreck. Every little thing set me off. I’ll never forget ducking for cover under a table in the middle of a Starbucks after a car backfired.”

With a heavy exhale, Dean turned and let his head droop until his forehead was resting against Castiel’s. “What a pair we make huh?”

Castiel pressed gentle kisses to the salty tear tracks on each cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “I like to think it makes us stronger. We’ve both suffered in ways that no one should have to, but we’re here, Dean. We  _ survived _ .”

Overcome with an emotion that he wasn’t ready to put a name to, he wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist and tangled his fingers in Castiel’s disheveled hair. Their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart for one of the longest minutes of Dean’s life before he pulled the other man back in, crashing their lips together. 

A whimper caught in Castiel’s throat. Unlike their lazy kisses from before, this kiss was something more. This kiss meant something, every movement trying to say something they couldn’t say out loud. The way Castiel’s lips firmly slid over Dean’s told him ‘let me take care of you’. The way he licked into Dean’s mouth, stroking his tongue along Dean’s said, ‘I don’t want to push you too far’. The soft nip at Dean’s bottom lip said ‘I need you’.

Dean’s head was spinning with his own onslaught of emotions. When he ran his tongue over Castiel’s bottom lip, he really meant ‘thank you for being here’. And when he cupped Castiel’s cheek and wrapped his other hand behind Castiel’s neck to hold him close, he couldn’t help but think ‘I love you’. 

The heat between them grew, and after a few minutes, Dean was clambering into Castiel’s lap and pushing him back against the couch cushions. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” Dean groaned quietly as he looked back at Castiel’s swollen lips and flushed cheeks. 

“I don’t think that you had to do anything to get lucky,” Castiel responded, cocking his head as he went into teacher mode. “Life is made up of a chaotic series of events and sometimes those events just happen to collide into something special.”

Dean rolled his eyes fondly. “Okay, teach, just shut up and kiss me already.” He couldn’t help but notice the small shiver that ran through Castiel’s body at that. “Oh, do you like that, teach?”

Castiel looked almost guilty, as he pressed a kiss to the hinge of Dean’s jaw. “I have never had any romantic or sexual feelings towards my students, Dean.”

Dean’s grin grew and he tugged Castiel’s head back gently so that he could catch Castiel’s eye. “Never said you did, Mr. Novak.”

With a low growl, Castiel gripped Dean by the hips, lifting him with ease, and threw him down on the couch. Castiel leaned over him, his gaze narrow, as he looked down into Dean’s eyes. “You are a menace, Winchester.”

“So, I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean said with glee,, before pressing a soft kiss to the end of Castiel’s nose. 

“We’re meant to be watching crap television, and you are supposed to be recuperating.” Castiel’s tone turned serious as he looked Dean over. “Maybe I should leave. I don’t want you doing anything reckless.”

Dean groaned, but he felt warmth pool in his gut at the sentiment. “The only reckless thing I could do tonight, Cas, would be to let you walk out that door.”

“Dean-,” Castiel started, before a hand placed over his mouth cut him off. 

“Cas, I need you to trust me now, okay?” Dean’s eyes flicked over Castiel’s face. “I love that you want to take care of me, but I haven’t felt this way about another man since high school. I’ve wanted this, wanted  _ you _ , for months. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you when I’m alone?”

There was a sharp intake of breath against Dean’s hand. “Fuck, Cas, the way you get under my skin. I could barely keep my hands off you when you showed up at my door tonight looking like some fucking Christmas miracle.”

Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut then opened again; he looked down at Dean with an intensity that sent electricity crawling under his skin.

“The things I want to do to you, Cas, I swear. Fuck that, the things I want you to do to me as well.”

Unfairly shifting his hips, Castiel took advantage of the way that Dean keened under him and gently pulled away from Dean’s hand so he could speak. “If you would let me speak, then I could tell you how much I want that as well.”

Dean’s hands flew to Castiel’s hips as he groaned. “I can think of a better way for you to tell me.”

Castiel smirked, as he leaned down to finally - fucking finally - press his to lips to Dean’s. The kiss was over far too quickly for Dean’s liking before Castiel was pulling off him to stand. 

“Well that’s the opposite of what I was going for,” Dean snarked, rolling over to prop himself up on his elbow. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Stand up.” Grumbling under his breath, Dean got to his feet. He shuffled forward until he could rest his hands on Dean’s hips and pull him close. “You really are a menace.”

“You like it,” Dean teased, careful not to use the other l-word as he leaned in to press a kiss below Castiel’s ear. 

Castiel hummed, in assent and Dean could feel the vibrations under his lips. “If you’re sure, I was going to suggest we take this to the bedroom.”

Dean pulled away quickly and took a step back. “That. Yes, that.” 

With a low huff of laughter, Castiel held his hand out for Dean to take. “Lead the way.”

The rest of the house was warm and dark, as Dean led them upstairs and down the hallway to his room. He flicked on the light and stepped back, suddenly unsure what he was supposed to do. 

“Come here,” Castiel purred, stepping in close and letting his hands rest gently on the jut of Dean’s hip once again. Dean couldn’t help the small shiver that ran down his spine at the small touch. Up there, in the dim light of his bedroom, everything was suddenly more intense. “Are you-.”

Mentally rolling his eyes, Dean turned to shut the other man up with a kiss which started soft and sweet, but quickly heated up. As Castiel’s tongue slid into his mouth, Dean was more than sure. 

Their shirts had never made it back on since their first attempt at this so Dean had miles of skin before him to explore. He mapped every inch of Castiel with his finger tips, learning which spots made Castiel shiver closer, and which spots made him squirm away.

It was hard to focus when Castiel was apparently on the same mission. The pad of a thumb over Dean’s nipple made him gasp into the kiss. The light scratch of nails across his back sent shivers down his spine. Even the rasp of stubble against his lips threatened to drive him out of his mind. 

“Cas.” Dean gasped, as Castiel trailed a path of kisses across his jaw and down his throat. He was painfully hard and he wanted Castiel  _ now _ . As far as Dean was concerned, the last two hours counted as foreplay because he was more than ready. “Please.”

“I know, Dean,” Castiel breathed against his clavicle. “I’ve got you.”

Their hips rolled together and he could feel Castiel just as hard against him. The flannel layers between them pulled and bunched as they rocked. Growling in frustration, Dean started to fumble with the drawstring of his pants. Luckily, Castiel got the memo and followed suit, pushing his own pajamas to the floor. 

So focused on the sudden heat of skin on skin, Dean barely noticed when Castiel turned and slowly backed him towards the bed until the back of his knees hit the mattress. “Lay back,” Castiel ordered, pushing his hips towards the bed. 

Dean scooted up the mattress, waiting for Castiel to follow. Instead, Castiel stood in between his feet and looked down at him, slowly stroking his cock. Dean did his best to burn that scene into his memory, as he took himself in hand. 

“You going to come down here?” Dean asked, his eyes momentarily rolling shut as his thumb brushed over his leaking slit. 

“In a second,” Castiel replied. He stood for what felt like hours, just watching Dean with a predatory look in his eye. 

Dying of anticipation, Dean leered up at him. “As sexy as you look Cas, I’d really like to touch you at some point tonight.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and began to crawl up the bed. Dean let out a small sigh of relief that turned turned to a small whimper when he realized that Castiel had frozen, hovering with his mouth inches away from where Dean’s hand was working. 

The feeling of warmth as Castiel exhaled over his sensitive skin made his toes curl, and Dean was pretty sure he was going to die of anticipation before the night was over. Castiel looked up at him through dark lashes. Never breaking eye contact, Castiel’s tongue flicked over the tip of Dean’s cock, licking up a drop of precome that had gathered. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean whispered, his eyes momentarily slipping shut. 

Castiel paused, his lips brushing over the flushed skin as he spoke. “Dean, is this okay?”

Heat pooled in Dean’s gut, as he was struck again with just how much Castiel cared. He propped himself up on his pillows and reached down to run his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair. “It’s more than okay, Cas. Please.”

Castiel shot him a wicked grin as he took Dean’s cock in his hand and lapped again at the slit. Dean did his best not to whine and to keep his eyes open when Castiel slowly began to swallow him down. He’d been waiting for this moment for months, and every time Castiel’s head bobbed, his tongue would press against the thick vein just below the cockhead, Dean couldn’t help but groan and tangle his fingers farther in Castiel’s hair. 

“Fuck, baby,” Dean moaned. “Ah! So good.”

Castiel hummed around him before taking Dean deep enough that the tip of his cock bumped against the back of Castiel’s throat. Apparently, Castiel was missing his gag reflex, because, without breaking eye contact, he swallowed around him. 

“Shit, Cas!” Dean’s toes curled and he threw his head back against the pillows when Castiel swallowed again. He’d had blow jobs before. Hell, he’d probably had more than his share, but Dean couldn’t remember anyone ever bringing him to the edge so quickly. But then again, he’d never met anyone like Castiel. He took a sharp breath when Castiel pulled back and a hand gently rolled his balls. 

“Cas- Cas, I’m so close,” Dean gasped, torn between trying to warn the other man and hoping that Castiel would never stop. Castiel moaned around him and only bobbed his head faster, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked harder. “Oh god.”

He tightened his grip on Castiel’s hair and did his best to keep from thrusting up into the tight heat. The last thing he wanted to do was choke Castiel, but it felt too good not to rock his hips up to meet every move. Dean jumped slightly and let out a broken groan when a finger pressed behind his balls before trailing back to brush over his hole, pushing him right over the edge.

With a shout of ‘ _ Cas!’ _ , Dean came down Castiel’s throat. Castiel swallowed it down as he slowly worked Dean through his orgasm. Looking down, Dean watched Castiel release his cock and sit up on his heels. With flushed cheeks, slick red lips, and tousled hair Castiel looked completely and perfectly debauched. 

Dean’s post orgasmic haze was broken when he saw Castiel stroke his own straining cock, apparently intent on finishing himself off. “Come here,” Dean murmured, extending a hand.

Castiel let their fingers intertwine as he walked on his knees up the bed until he was straddling Dean’s stomach. His muscular thighs gently squeezed Dean’s flanks and Dean couldn’t help but let his hands slowly run up each leg to rest on Castiel’s hips. 

Up close, Castiel was impossibly even more beautiful. His dark eyes were hooded with lust as he watched Dean’s hands slowly touch and skim over every inch of skin he could find, all while staying clear of where Castiel wanted him most. Between his legs, Castiel’s cock hung heavy against Dean’s stomach. The tip was glistening with a steady stream of precome and the skin was flushed dark red. Dean was torn between desperately wanting that in his mouth  _ now, _ and his own anxiety about being inadequate. After the skillful blowjob Castiel had just given him, there was no way that Dean could even begin to live up to that. 

As though Castiel could read his thoughts, he pulled their joined hands down to wrap around his cock. If Dean could have possibly gotten hard again so quickly, he would have after seeing how Castiel’s eyes rolled back and his hips rocked forward. 

Emboldened by the other man’s reactions, Dean untangled their fingers. Now free, he could gently touch and tease, skimming over the hot flesh with his fingertips as he explored. 

“ _ Dean _ ,” Castiel breathed, the sound coming out as a low whine as he rocked his hips in search for friction. 

“Yeah, I got you, sweetheart,” Dean said, unable to look away from where his hand moved to wrap around the base of Castiel’s cock. 

As he slowly stroked Castiel, Dean couldn’t help but marvel at how right it all felt. Sure, the angle was a little different from how he was used to touching himself, but it felt  _ right _ to be holding another man like this. Picking up his pace, Dean rubbed his thumb over Castiel’s leaking cockhead to collect the precome and slick his way. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Cas,” Dean hummed as he raised his other hand to thumb over Castiel’s nipple. Castiel gasped and threw his head back as he picked up the pace of his thrusts into Dean’s hand. “That’s right, I got you baby.”

“Fuck, Dean,  _ fuck _ !” A stream of curses fell from Castiel’s lips as his movements became jerky. Grinning, Dean tightened his grip on Castiel’s cock and met each of Castiel’s thrusts with a twist of his wrist. 

Dean let his own low groan when Castiel slouched forward to support himself with one hand planted on Dean’s chest. He couldn’t help but wonder how this view would compare to Castiel riding his cock and fuck if that thought didn’t make his dick give a half-hearted twitch. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean purred as he lightly pinched Castiel’s nipple. “Come for me. Want you to come on me.”

“Ah!” Castiel cried out, his eyes fluttering shut, as he gave a few final, shuddering thrusts of his hips. And then, he was coming. Hot stripes of come splattered across Dean’s chest and he let out his own whimper at the sight of it all. Dean worked him through it, milking the last of his release from his cock. 

“Look at you,” Castiel breathed, looking down reverently at the sight of Dean covered in his release. Castiel let a finger trail through the mess, coating the tip of it. Without overthinking it, Dean reached out and grasped Castiel’s hand. 

“Sorry, I- oh!” Castiel trailed off with a hum as Dean licked the tip of his finger before wrapping his lips around it. The taste of Castiel’s semen was musky, salty, and just a tiny bit bitter but somehow it all melded together and just tasted like  _ Cas _ . Once Castiel’s finger was thoroughly cleaned, Dean released it with a soft pop. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Castiel asked, with a wry smile. 

“That would probably ruin some of the plans I have for you,” Dean said with a wink.

Castiel gave a fond roll of his eyes before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. He sat back up and swung off Dena’s lap to stand next to the side of the bed.

“Okay, see that?” Dean rolled up onto his side to point at where Castiel stood. “That’s the opposite of what I want.”

“Where’s your bathroom up here?” Castiel asked, ignoring Dean’s petulant pout.

“Down the hall, and to the left. The door to the right is Sammy’s room.”

With a pat to Dean’s thigh, Castiel turned towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Dean settled back against his pillows and tried to calm his pounding heart and to quiet that little voice in his head that reminded him that he’d just crossed a line. He couldn’t keep pretending that he was straight now. So, he was bisexual. What exactly did that mean? Was he supposed to tell Sam? Bobby?

Castiel slipping back into the room broke him out of his reverie. The man was holding a damp washcloth in his hand and looked absolutely gorgeous backlit by the hall light, his hair sticking up every which way. Dean felt his mind calm as Castiel perched on the side of the bed and gently cleaned the mess from his chest. 

“Where are you going now?” Dean quietly asked when Castiel stood to make his way back towards the door. 

“I’m just going to go drop this off in the bathroom,” Castiel replied, holding the cloth up like it was obvious. 

“Just drop it on the floor, over there,” Dean said. “Come back to bed.”

“Dean Winchester, are you asking me to come cuddle with you?” Castiel teased but did as he was told before stalking back to the bed.

“Shut up and get over here,” Dean grumbled, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on his bed spread. 

Castiel watched him with a fond smile, his blue eyes crinkling in the way that made Dean’s heart skip a beat. He crawled onto the bed before laying on his back and holding out his arm in a clear indication.

Dean quickly scooted closer and pillowed his head on Castiel’s chest. He felt warm and secure as Castiel’s arms wrapped around him, holding him in a way he rarely got. People always assumed that, being the bigger guy, Dean wanted to be the big spoon but sometimes it was nice to be held. 

They laid in silence for a while, the minutes slipping by with both men too content to consider moving. Finally, after the better part of a half hour, Castiel couldn’t contain his yawns any longer. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said around another yawn. “I was up early to get to my family in time for breakfast. As if they aren’t trouble enough  _ after _ coffee, they insist on starting the day before it.”

“I could use some sleep myself,” Dean said, fighting back his own yawn. “Come on, I think I have a spare toothbrush.”

They moved through their bedtime routine with surprising ease. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable around someone that wasn’t family. Castiel finished brushing his teeth first so he was waiting in bed, nestled under the covers when Dean found him. 

Dean paused next to his side of the bed, anxiety about what they were doing rearing its ugly head. He did his best to remind himself that compared to what they had just done, sleeping together was basically nothing. But it was the little intimacies like this that make his stomach flip.

“Everything okay?” Castiel asked, looking up at Dean with his own nerves obvious on his face. “When was the last time that you had someone spend the night?”

Dean frowned as he thought. “Four years ago? My ex, Lisa, spent the night once while Sam was away at a sleepover.”

“I can head home, if you’re not ready or not comfortable with it,” Castiel offered, sitting up in bed and pulling back the sheets.

Surprisingly, it was that small gesture that cemented in Dean’s mind why he wanted to do this. He had no idea how they would make their relationship work, with Castiel being Sam’s teacher, but everything Castiel did made him want to figure it out. 

“You’re not going anywhere, I already called little spoon,” Dean replied, pulling back the covers on his side of the bed and slipping under them. 

“When, exactly did you call dibs?” Castiel with a smile as he settled back onto the bed as well. 

“Hmm, must have been when you were in the bathroom.” Dean rolled closer to the other man and looked up at him, eyes flicking down to those sinfully tempting lips. 

Castiel’s smile was soft and fond as he leaned down to close the difference. This kiss was different from before: slow, soft, and lazy. Dean wondered briefly if he’s ever run out of ways to kiss the wonderful man above him, but he was more than happy to keep trying until he found out.

By unspoken agreement, they parted and settled down into the pillows. Dean flicked off the bedside lamp. Castiel was quick to pull Dean into his arms and press flush against his back, letting an arm drape over his side. 

“Night, Cas,” Dean mumbled sleepily.

“Good night, Dean.”

Feeling safe, secure, and warm, Dean fell into the best sleep he’d had in years. 

XXXXX

Groaning at the light seeping in through his window, Dean turned to wrap himself around Castiel, only to find the bed cold and empty next to him. Dean’s anxiety spiked and he was quickly rolling out of bed. Had Castiel left? Or worse, had Sam come home early and found them? 

“Cas?” He called, his mind racing, as he pulled on a long sleeved shirt against the chill. No response.

Dean was halfway down the stairs when he smelled the savory aroma of bacon frying and coffee brewing. His heart rate began to slow, until he turned into the kitchen and found Castiel hovering over the stove. Anxiety quickly turned to butterflies in his gut. No one had ever gotten up to make him breakfast before. 

Quietly stepping forward in socked feet, Dean snuck up behind Castiel before he wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel jumped at the sudden contact, dropping the piece of bacon he has been turning onto the floor. 

“That’s your piece,” Castiel grumbled, his voice rough from sleep. 

A soft meow came from below them and Dean looked down with a chuckle. “No, I think that’s Zeppelin’s piece.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “Can cats eat bacon?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It’s meat right? Besides, he’s already missing a leg, the poor dude has earned his bacon.” He watched as the tabby hopped away with his prize. 

After carefully placing the tongs next to the stove, Castiel turned around in Dean’s arms. Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips as he unconsciously licked his own.

“Good morning,” Castiel said, his voice soft in the quiet kitchen. 

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Dean’s lips. “Morning, sunshine.”

Castiel rolled his eyes fondly at the nickname but he leaned in to press his lips to Dean’s anyways. 

“No one’s ever made me breakfast before,” Dean admitted ,once they broke apart. 

Castiel’s brow furrowed at that. “I’m glad I could rectify that situation, then.”

“What exactly are you making, anyways?” Dean peeked over Castiel’s shoulder, trying to get a good view of the stove behind him. 

“I’m making French toast, with bacon, and then I found a carton of strawberries in the fridge,” Castiel replied before turning back to the stove and picking the tongs back up.

“Those have to be Sam’s,” Dean thought out loud. When was the last time he’d willingly bought himself fruit? Should he be eating more fruit? Probably. 

Castiel stiffened against Dean, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Will he be suspicious if he comes home to find them all gone then?” Castiel asked, looking nervously over at the bowl of cut fruit. 

“Nah,” Dean said, brushing his lips over the nape of Castiel’s neck. “What you’ve done here is perfect, sweetheart. Besides, if he asks, I’ll tell him I had a drunken craving or something.”

Castiel nodded, but stayed quiet as he finished cooking their breakfast. Dean could tell something was off with the other man, but let it go as he moved to make them both a cup of coffee. It wasn’t until they were halfway through eating their breakfast that he finally spoke up. 

“This French toast is amazing Cas,” Dean said before moaning around another bite. 

“Do you think you’ll ever be willing to tell Sam about us?” Castiel asked. His brow furrowed, as he squinted down at the plate in front of him. 

Dean’s fork dropped to clatter against his plate as he choked on his bite of food in surprise. Coughing, Dean took a sip of coffee to try to clear his throat. “Shit Cas, are we really having this discussion before ten in the morning?”

Castiel’s frown pulled further. “I need to know what this is, Dean. I need to know that I won’t always be your secret.”

Dean felt a pang in his chest. He hated what he was doing to Castiel and how it was apparently affecting the other man. That being said, would he really be okay coming out to all of his friends and family? He studied Castiel for a moment, taking in how beautiful he looked bathed in the morning sun streaming in from the window behind him. Castiel had been endlessly patient and kind as Dean tried to figure out what he wanted. Dean didn’t want to keep him guessing any longer. 

“Cas,” Dean started, still unsure what to say. “You have to know how much I care about you. I mean, hell, I haven’t been in a relationship this real in a long time, if I ever was. But how can I tell Sam, and ruin his school life when I don’t even really know what we are?”

Castiel turned to meet Dean’s gaze, his head cocked to the side. “You’re not the only one that hasn’t been in this position in a long time, Dean, but I would like to think that we are in a relationship of some sort. I’d like to think of you as my boyfriend, partner, what have you.”

Boyfriend. The term felt foreign when Dean applied it to another man but at the same time, it felt  _ right _ when he applied it to Castiel. “Yeah, Cas, I think I’d like that, too,” he finally said. If he had any remaining doubts, the way that Castiel’s face lit up with surprise and happiness cemented the decision in Dean’s mind. 

“Boyfriends,” Castiel said, as if testing the term out. “Dean Winchester is my boyfriend.”

Dean’s heart fluttered just hearing it in Castiel’s baritone. He should have done this ages ago. Taking Castiel’s hand in his, Dean flashed him a smile. “Damn straight I am, sweetheart.”

“Does that mean you’ll consider telling Sam?” Castiel pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth as he stared down at their joined hands. 

“I don’t-,” Dean started, his mind going blank. Every instinct he had was screaming out ‘no’. He had to keep Sam safe, he’d  _ promised _ to keep Sam safe at all times, and that included at school. Being a teenager was hard enough, without your older brother being in a homosexual relationship with your teacher. Dean just couldn’t justify putting Sam in that kind of danger.

“I don’t think I can,” Dean said, hating himself for the way Castiel’s face fell at those words. “Not yet, at least. I promise I’ll tell him eventually but I can’t put that pressure on him right now.”

“You know I’d never ask you to do anything that I thought would intentionally hurt Sam,” Castiel said softly, his eyes still fixed on their hands. 

“I know, Cas, I know that.” Dean paused. “Do you think we could try to make it through the semester? May is only five months away. The second he graduates, I’ll tell him, I promise.”

Castiel took a deep breath. “I suppose we can try to keep hiding it until graduation,” he finally said, looking resigned to his fate. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Dean said, standing to step around the table until he was next to Castiel. “You’re a pretty great boyfriend.”

Dean bent over, placing his arms on the arms of Castiel’s chair as he leaned in close. Slowly, Castiel turned to face him and slid a hand up Dean’s arm to rest on the nape of his neck, puling him into a kiss. The kiss was soft when their lips finally met. Dean sighed into the kiss and let his tongue trace over the seam on Castiel’s lips. Castiel’s mouth opened under him and their tongues slid together. The kiss quickly turned heated, one of Dean’s hands moving from the armrest to tangle in Castiel’s again dark hair. 

“How about you show me just how good of a boyfriend I am?” Castiel said, his voice deep and rough, his eyes hooded. 

Dean grinned down at him before standing and offering Castiel a hand. As they made their way through the kitchen and up to the bedroom, Dean couldn’t help but think about just how lucky he was to have Castiel in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed our babies finally getting down and dirty and making things official! Please leave a kudos or a comment and let me know if it was worth the wait!
> 
> Love y'all!!!!


	11. New Year's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Sending lots of love from me to you!

New Years Eve had never been much of a holiday in the Winchester household. Maybe when Mary was still alive, but after? Well, after that John could get just as drunk on cheap champagne as he could on cheap beer or whiskey. So, when Sam came into the living room at 4 in the afternoon to ask if he could go to a last minute party his buddies were having, Dean didn’t even need to think before saying yes. 

“Dude, I said yes already, now leave me alone or grab me a beer,” Dean grumbled, as he tried to look around his gigantor brother to see the TV. 

“But I’ll be spending the night at Kevin’s,” Sam insisted, sidestepping so that he staying firmly in Dean’s eyeline. 

Dean scoffed. “Kevin is captain of the chess team, I’m not exactly worried.”

“I  _ mean _ that you’ll be alone on New Year’s Eve.”

Dean rolled his eyes and adjusted the small ball of fur that was in his lap. “Are you worried that I won't have anyone to kiss at midnight? Because I’ll have you know that Zeppelin gives excellent kisses.”

“Dean, be serious,” Sam said, giving his best bitch face. “You were alone on Christmas. This would be the second holiday in a row that I’d be ditching you for. I don’t exactly feel great about that.”

“How do you know I’ll be alone?” Dean asked with a raised brow. “I have friends too you know. Maybe I’ll give Victor or Ash a call.”

Sam visibly relaxed a little at that. “You promise that you’ll do your best to spend time with someone tonight, instead of being alone?”

Dean fought back a smile. He knew exactly who he would be trying to spend time with and it sure wasn’t Victor or Ash. “I promise. Now go do your hair or something and leave me alone.”

“Ugh, fine,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m leaving after dinner. Order pizza?”

“Obviously.”

Before Sam was halfway up the stairs, Dean had his phone out.

_ Dean [4:15pm] Hey what are you up to tonight? _

_ Castiel [4:20 pm] Getting lesson plans ready for the upcoming semester. Why? _

_ Dean [4:22 pm] No fancy party at Michael’s? _

_ Castiel [4:25 pm] I’m sure there is one, but I will not be attending. I already have to attend evening mass with them.  _

_ Dean [4:29 pm] But how will you survive without champagne that costs more than Sam’s tuition and tiny little bites of food that no one should ever eat? _

_ Castiel [4:32 pm] I’m sure I’ll find a way to survive _

_ Dean [4:35 pm] You know, I hear that good company can help with that.  _

_ Castiel [4:37 pm] Do you know where I could find any? _

_ Dean [4:40 pm] You wound me sir. _

_ Castiel [4:43 pm] :) _

_ Castiel [4:44 pm] Is this your roundabout way of asking me to come over? _

_ Dean [4:47 pm] Well if you’re offering then I suppose I could make time in my busy schedule. _

_ Castiel [4:50 pm] And if I wasn’t offering? _

_ Dean [4:53 pm] Then I guess I’d be sad and alone on New Years Eve with no one to make out with at midnight. _

_ Castiel [4:55pm] I thought it was just a kiss at midnight _

_ Dean [4:59 pm] Not in the Winchester home. _

_ Castiel [5:03 pm] Then I guess I’d be remiss if I didn’t come learn a new tradition. _

_ Dean [5:05 pm] Damn straight. _

_ Castiel [5:08 pm] What time should I come over? _

_ Dean [5:11 pm] Come over at 8:30 _

_ Castiel [5:14 pm] I can’t wait. _

_ Dean [5:19 pm] Same _

_ Castiel [5:22 pm] See you soon Dean.  _

By 8:00, Sam was walking out to his car, asking Dean one last time if he was sure that he was okay with Sam leaving. Dean rolled his eyes and assured him that he’d made plans with a buddy. 

Once Sam was safely in the car, and his tail lights had disappeared around the bend, Dean ran a hand over his face as he tried to make a list of everything he needed to do before Castiel came over. First step was to get out of his sweatpants. Should he shave though? No, Castiel seemed to like him with a few days’ worth of growth. God, he was overthinking this. When had he turned into a teenage girl?

He took the stairs two at a time and pulled his closet open. Thankfully, they had actually done laundry this week and his nicer jeans were clean. Next was a plain black t-shirt that had shrunk a little in the wash and fit him really well. After a moment of thought, he grabbed a red flannel and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. He didn’t have more than a small mirror in his room, but damn, he looked good. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Dean quickly tidied up his bed, grateful that he’d also put fresh sheets on just a few days ago. He was hopeful, sue him. With just a few minutes left to spare, he bounded back downstairs to clean up the living room and get a fire going in the fireplace. He had just turned Houses of Holy on to play softly in the background when there was a knock on the door. 

Dean’s stomach clenched in anticipation, apparently just knowing that Castiel was here was enough to get him going. Taking a deep breath, Dean pulled the door open. Castiel looked like he had just come straight from mass, dressed in black slacks, a white button down shirt and a royal blue tie. Instead of his pea coat he wore his old trench coat. He looked like an accountant, but a damned sexy accountant. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 

“Hey, Cas.” Dean breathed. It took him a minute to break out of whatever spell fell over him whenever he saw Castiel. Even though it had only been four days since they were last together, it felt like they’d been apart for weeks. Dean grabbed Castiel by the tie and gently pulled him into the house before shutting the door and pushing Castiel against it. 

As they kissed, Dean felt like a man without oxygen and Castiel was his life support. He couldn’t get enough. Castiel nipped his bottom lip and Dean groaned. The kiss was all tongues and teeth and heat, and it was quickly clouding his brain. He could feel a familiar heat pooling in his gut. Every press of lips or swipe of a tongue was just fuel to the fire. 

Dean was aching in his pants and he could feel Castiel’s own erection digging against his hip. It took everything he had to keep from dropping to his knees right there in the entryway. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled, pulling away to mouth along Castiel’s five o’clock shadow and to tug gently at his ear lobe with his teeth. 

Castiel made a soft noise in the back of his throat, his hips stuttering against Dean’s thigh. “I missed you, too.”

Fuck it, Dean was too far gone from just their kissing to care about decency. He wanted Castiel’s cock in his mouth and he wanted it now. He sank down to his knees, wincing slightly as they hit the tile.

“Dean, you don’t have to,” Castiel insisted, running his fingers softly through Dean’s light brown hair and down along his cheekbone. 

Dean looked up at the other man and pointedly began undoing Castiel’s belt. “Trust me, I’ve thought about little else than getting you in this position since you were last here.”

“That must have made conversations with Sam difficult,” Castiel replied, though his sass was undercut by the small hitch in his voice when Dean began to work his zipper down. 

Dean chuckled, his breath warm against the damp patch in the front of Castiel’s briefs. “New rule, no talking about my little brother when your dick is in my face.”

Dean gently cupped Castiel’s cock in his hand as he took a moment to collect himself. While it was true that he’d barely been able to think of anything but reciprocating Castiel’s blow job, he was still more nervous than he cared to admit about giving his first blowjob. Not that he was still pretending, but it was hard to pretend to be straight when you’ve had another man’s dick in your mouth; and liked it. 

“Dean,” Castiel said, softly, as though he could read Dean’s thoughts. “We don’t have to do this tonigh-ahh.”

Dean cut him off by leaning in and mouthing his way up and over the bulge in front of him. Spurred on by Castiel’s reaction, he gently took the tip between his lips, letting his tongue flick over the damp fabric. It tasted salty and musky and like all the things Dean remembered from their previous night together, and it only made him want more. 

He pulled down on the waistband of Castiel’s briefs and tucked the elastic band behind his balls. He knew that Castiel wasn’t exactly small, but, up close, his girth and length felt incredibly daunting. But Dean Winchester was never one to back away from a challenge.

Castiel shivered as Dean licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. Dean wrapped his hand around the base as he gave a small lick to the leaking slit, lapping up the bead of precome gathering there. Castiel’s fingers tightened in Dean’s short strands as Dean continued to lap and lave at his cockhead again and again.

“Shit,” Castiel gasped. 

Spurred on by Castiel’s encouraging noises, Dean wrapped his lips around the tip and swirled his tongue around it. Slowly, he began to bob his head, taking a little more each time. 

“That’s it, baby, just a little at a time.” Castiel’s voice was wrecked as he tried to guide Dean through it.

When Dean’s lips met his fist, he pulled back, moving his fist with him. Just like that, he picked up an easy rhythm. He tried to focus on the little sounds Castiel made when Dean did something just right but it was hard when he was aching in his own pants. Everything about the situation was quick and dirty and  _ hot _ .

“Oh, fuck,” Castiel groaned when he saw Dean flick open the fly of his own jeans. He’d been watching, transfixed on Dean’s every move, and that laser focus only spurred Dean on even more. 

Dean hummed around Castiel’s cock as he pulled his own erection out of his boxers. With a bit off whine, Castiel’s hips stuttered, pushing himself deeper into Dean’s mouth. Dean made a happy hum again as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. 

Dean knew he wouldn’t last long as he stroked himself hard and fast. It was all too much. The small noises Castiel made, the way he tried to control his hips and couldn’t, and even just the heavy feeling of Castiel’s cock on his tongue. Yeah, there was no way that he would last more than a few more minutes. 

Thankfully, Castiel was right there with him. One hand was tight in Dean’s hair, his short nails scratching deliciously against Dean’s scalp. His other hand was scrambling against the door, trying, and failing, to find something to grab. Dean took a deep breath before moving his hand from the base of Castiel’s cock to his hip. Dean’s fingers tightened in a clear signal for him to  _ move _ . 

“Oh, god, Dean,” Castiel groaned as his hips stuttered forward in careful thrusts. “So good.”

Dean groaned as his own orgasm loomed close. He was standing at the edge of a precipice, and every stroke pushed him closer and closer to falling over. 

“I’m close,” Castiel warned, as his eyes fluttered shut for the first time since Dean had gotten on his knees. His hips faltered and came to a halt, clearly expecting Dean to pull off before he came.

Dean looked up at him, and locked eyes as Castiel’s slowly opened. Never breaking eye contact, Dean flattened his tongue against the thick vein on the underside of Castiel’s cock and gave a long suck. 

“Ah- fuck!” Castiel cried, his voice echoing off the entry hallway as he came. 

Hot spurts of come painted Dean’s tongue and the back of his throat. Without pulling off, Dean did his best to swallow it down, causing Castiel to cry out again. As Dean worked Castiel through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his own loomed ever closer. 

He pulled off Castiel with a slick pop and let his head fall forward to rest on Castiel’s hip.

“That’s it, Dean,” Castiel coaxed, and if Dean thought he sounded wrecked before, it was nothing compared to how he sounded then, an octave lower and rough as gravel. “Come for me.”

With a bitten off whimper, Dean’s hips rocked forward as he finally toppled over the edge. Stripes of white splattered against his t-shirt, but, as he panted against Castiel’s hip bone, he couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“Come here,” Castiel said, hooking a finger under Dean’s chin as he encouraged him to stand. 

Dean slowly got to his feet, wincing as his knees popped and creaked from the movement. The pain was soon forgotten as Castiel pulled him into a soft kiss. They kissed gently, nothing more than the simple moving of lips, until their heart rates returned to normal. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel whispered as they parted to rest their foreheads against each other. 

“For what?” There was no way his first blow job was  _ that _ good. 

“I know that was a big step for you.” Castiel sounded so sincere that Dean felt an ache in his chest. 

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Dean assured him, brushing it off with a small shrug of his shoulders. His smile turned into a leer as he pulled back to catch Castiel’s eye. “Besides, I’m sure my blow job skills need some practice.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but gave him a crinkly eyed smile anyways. “I’m happy to practice with you anytime.”

“Great.” Dean pecked another kiss to his lips. “Now, the first order of business is a beer. I need to get the taste of jizz out of my mouth.”

Dean turned to make his way towards the kitchen. Castiel hurriedly pulled his pants back together before following. “And the second order?”

Dean turned to gesture to his shirt with a smile before he pulled two beers out of the fridge. “Second order is to clean up and get a new shirt. Then, we are watching as many Star Wars movies as I can get you to sit still for.” Dean popped the tops off both bottles and passed one to Castiel. 

Castiel raised the bottle in salute before taking a sip. “Let’s do it.”

XXX

Dean was not getting emotional as the throne room music began to play at the end of A New Hope. If there was a tear in his eye, then it was just because Castiel’s hair was tickling his face as they lay curled up on the couch. His heart rate definitely didn’t pick up when Han Solo walked out in that vest and those tight pants. How had he pretended to be straight for so long again?

“Hey,” Castiel said, breaking Dean’s focus on the screen. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Dean asked distractedly, doing his best to pay attention to his boyfriend, when he really just wanted to watch his heroes get their reward. 

“That large black box next to the TV.” Castiel pulled an arm free and pointed.

“Shh, Han and Luke are getting their medals,” Dean said, before turning his head with a start to look down at Castiel. “Wait do you mean the XBox?”

Castiel sighed. “If that’s what it’s called, then, yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”

“Sam just got it for Christmas. But, more importantly how have you never seen an XBox before?” Dean asked, turning completely away from the TV as Chewbacca roared and the credits began to play.

“Where exactly would I have seen one before, Dean? The area I was stationed in didn’t have as many amenities as some of the larger bases, we were lucky just to have Skype. Then, I spent six years focused on school where I was too old to ‘hang with the kids’,” Castiel said, making the finger quotes as he spoke. “I’ve heard my students talk about them, but it’s not like I have them bring their electronics in for show and tell.”

“Wow,” Dean said as he pushed himself up into a seated position. “Wow. So, have you ever played a video game before?”

Castiel glowered at him, his brow furrowed into an annoyed squint. “I feel like you already know the answer to that question.”

“Okay we’re fixing this tonight.” Dean stood and walked across the room to pick up a pair of controllers and pressed the power button on the XBox. Dean returned and plopped down on to the floor in front of the couch before patting the spot next to him. “Come on, assume the position.”

“And what about video games involves me sitting on the floor?” Castiel asked, looking skeptical. 

“It’s a Winchester tradition.” Dean jerked his head to the side. “Now, get down here.”

Castiel got up with a huff and unceremoniously sat between Dean’s open legs. 

“Not exactly what I was going for,” Dean said, even as his hands wrapped around Castiel’s hips to keep him close. 

Castiel leaned back until they were back to chest, and let his head fall back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. “Do you want me to move?”

Dean cleared his throat as he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist. “No, sweetheart,” he said as he dropped a kiss just above to point where Castiel’s collar met his neck. “This is perfect.”

“What are we playing?” Castiel asked, picking up a controller. He turned the device over in his hands, inspecting it. 

“A classic,” Dean said as he navigated the home screen. With a push of a button, music began to play as the game loaded. “Mario Kart.”

“Now, here are the basics you need to know.” Dean hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder and began explaining what buttons to use and how the game worked. After showing him a practice run, Dean kissed the side of Castiel’s neck. “So that’s all you need to know. Ready to give it a shot?”

“Dean, I invaded foreign countries, I think I can handle a simple game - you threw me off the track!”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Castiel’s indignant outrage. “That’s the game, babe!”

As his character flickered back on to the road, Dean could feel Castiel tense up as he focused. Not ten minutes later, Dean was regretting every choice he’d made that led him to that moment. Castiel wasn’t good at video games; he was  _ scary good _ . The bastard. 

“I can’t believe you just blue shelled me, man!” Dean threw his hands up in the air in defeat as his character lost once again.

“You insisted that we play,” Castiel replied with a smirk. “Want to go again?”

“I can never let you play with Sam. I think the two of you against me would actually kill me,” Dean grumbled as he toggled back to the start screen. His eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. 11:45. Shit, he needed to text Sam.

“Hey, scoot up a second,” Dean said, patting Castiel’s hip before he checked his pockets for his phone. Coming up empty, Dean extricated himself from his spot between Castiel and the couch and began rifling through the couch cushions. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked. He stayed in his spot on the floor, calmly watching Dean’s increasingly frantic movements while he stroked Zeppelin behind the ears. 

Dean stood and ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the room. “I can’t find my phone. I wanted to text Sammy around midnight.”

“Do you want me to call it?”

Dean frowned as he thought. “Nah, let me go check the kitchen first.”

As Dean walked away, Castriel picked Zeppelin up under his front leg and held him eye to eye. “You check there, I’ll interrogate the cat.”

A bark of laughter echoed down the hall from the kitchen. Dean couldn’t keep the goofy smile off his face as he listened to the soft rumblings of Castiel talking to Zeppelin. For a man who’d never had a pet before, Castiel was certainly taking well to cats, or at least to one in particular. 

Thankfully, Dean’s phone was sitting just where he’d left it next to the fridge. He must have set it down when he got up last to grab them beers. Now, that was an idea. Smiling to himself, Dean opened up the fridge and pulled out the bottle of champagne he’d run out to buy that afternoon. Sure, it was a little corny, but, as he popped the cork, Dean found that he didn’t care. Being around Castiel just made him want to be a little cheesy in a way no one else had before. 

After shooting off a quick “ _ Happy New Year Bitch _ ,” text to his brother, Dean pocketed his phone and picked up the two champagne glasses that he’d been a little amazed to find hidden in their cabinets. 

“You got champagne,” Castiel quietly observed as he gracefully got to his feet.

Dean shrugged and passed a flute over to Castiel. “It’s tradition, right?” Thankfully, the low lighting in the room helped cover the color on his cheeks. 

“Right,” Castiel agreed before raising his glass. “What should we toast to?”

Dean ran a hand over the back over his neck nervously. Part of him knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Booze or no booze, Dean was not about to go making emotional declarations. “Shit Cas, you’re the one who’s good with words Teach.”

The look Castiel gave him in return suggested that he knew Dean was trying to cop out of something, but, thankfully, he was going to let him get away with it. Castiel cleared his throat and frowned for a moment, thinking. “Let’s raise a toast to the new friendships this year has brought us and for the continuance of relationships to come. May they bring us companionship, honesty, and, above all, love.”

Feeling like there was something caught in his throat and chest, Dean gave a small nod of his head and raised his glass to meet Castiel’s. Their glasses clinked softly before they eat took a drink. Something warm and a little uncomfortable grew in Dean’s gut, something that felt like happiness tinged with fear. Suddenly, Dean found that he couldn’t meet Castiel’s steady gaze any longer. He glanced over at the clock on the wall. Three minutes until midnight. 

“Do you uh, do you want to watch the ball drop?” Dean asked, gesturing towards the tv and their abandoned Mario Kart game. “It’s just recorded since it’s already happened in New York but you know it’s another uh, tradition.”

A warm hand settled on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean you’re babbling,” Castiel said softly. “But yes, I’d love to watch the ball drop.”

Dean gave a firm nod and turned to find the remote.

“I used to stay up late with Gabriel on New Year’s Eve when we were children. We would sit at the stop of the stairs where you could just see the television and watch the ball drop. My parents and their important friends always seemed so happy. The parties stopped after she died, but every year, my father sits there alone and watches the ball drop. I think that’s the most human I’ve ever seen him.” Castiel looked down into the rising bubbles in his glass.

The excited voices from the TV were the only sounds in the room for a few seconds as Dean’s brain tried to process what he’s heard. “Shit Cas, we don’t have to watch it if it’s too much,” Dean insisted, already turning to turn it off. “It’s just a stupid thing.”

Castiel placed his hand over Dean’s on the remote to stop him. “No, leave it on Dean. It’s nice. It reminds me of her.”

“Only 30 seconds left until midnight folks!” The announcer exclaimed.

“If you’re thinking about your mom, does that mean it’s weird to kiss you at midnight?”

Castiel’s smile was wicked as he pulled Dean close by the front of his shirt. On screen the crowd began to count down from 10. 

_ 9 _

Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips.

_ 7 _

Castiel’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips. 

_ 5 _

Dean bit back a groan as he tried to resist following that pink skin. 

_ 3 _

The hand fisted in Dean’s shirt released and ran over his chest and up to curl around his neck. 

_ 1 _

Castiel pulled Dean in,and, as the ball dropped, their lips met in a kiss. Castiel’s lips were soft and pliant under his, and Dean wrapped his own hand around the nape of Castiel’s neck and pulled him close to deepen the kiss and lick the taste of champagne from his lips. As Auld Lang Syne played and crowds of people cheered, they were lost in each other. Castiel’s tongue licked into Dean’s mouth and he was  _ done _ . 

With a low growl, Dean pulled away to quickly set down their glasses, before wrapping his arms around Castiel and holding him close. 

They stood in the middle of the living room, caught up in every touch, taste,  _ feel _ , of the kiss as the minutes passed by. After nearly ten minutes of necking like teenagers, Dean pulled back to just a hair's breadth away and caught Castiel’s eye. “Bedroom?”

Castiel gave a curt nod before rolling his hips so his erection pressed against Dean’s. “Bedroom.”

“Thank fuck,” Dean breathed as he tangled his fingers in Castiel’s dark locks and crashed their lips back together in a desperate kiss. 

“Lead the way,” Castiel panted once they broke apart.

The trip upstairs was quick. Before Dean could really think, Castiel was crowding into him at the foot of the bed, and deft fingers were pulled his shirt over his head. Not to be outdone, Dean began tugging at Castiel’s clothes in turn, until they both stood naked in the middle of the room. 

Dean felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs as he took a step back to really look at Castiel. To really take the time to appreciate his lean curves and edges. The dip of his collarbone and the sharp edge of his hip bones. His toned stomach and heavily muscled runner’s thighs. His cock jutting forward, flushed dark red and glistening at the tip. Piece by piece, he was handsome as hell, but all together, he was exquisite. 

“Look at you,” Dean breathed, his words failing him as he tried to describe just how the other man was making him feel. “You’re- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Castiel took a small step closer and let his hand trail down from across Dean’s shoulders, down his pectorals, over his ribcage and the softness at his stomach, until he stopped on the edge of Dean’s hip. 

“I’m nothing compared to you, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice low and rough. “You’re every dream I’ve ever had come true.”

Heat pooled in Dean’s gut and he could feel himself flush with a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Come here,” Dean said as he tightened his grip on Castiel’s hips and pulled him in. 

Castiel followed easily, shuffling forward until they were flush from head to toe. His hard cock brushed against Dean’s whenever he moved and Dean’s hips rolled against him. The roll of Dean’s hips stuttered as one of the hands on his hips moved around to cup his ass. Dean let out a low whine as those deft fingers massaged the muscle.

With a low chuckle, Castiel shifted until their cocks were pressed together. The pull and slide of their skin was dry, but, in that moment, Dean was too blissed out to care. 

“Do you have any lube?” The hand not on Dean’s ass slid between them to wrap around their cocks. 

Dean nodded before he really thought the question through. “In the nightstand.”

Castiel captured his lips in a kiss that made Dean feel weak in the knees, before he pulled away and moved towards the nightstand. Dean felt the loss of his hands immediately, and stepped around the bed after him without thinking. His hands skimmed across the soft skin of Castiel’s back and ass as the other man rummaged through the cluttered drawer. 

“Lay down,” Castiel ordered, as his fingers curled around the plastic bottle. “No touching yourself.”

Dean was quick to comply. He wasn’t ashamed that Castiel’s teacher voice got him a little hot under the collar. He had the comforter on the floor and was laying back across the sheets in record time. It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep from touching himself as Castiel loomed over him next to the bed. 

“Look at you. So good and gorgeous for me,” Castiel hummed. He let out a soft huff of breath as he took himself in hand and gave his cock a few lazy strokes. 

“You going to stand there all day and look, or are you going to do something about it?” Dean grumbled as he shifted uncomfortably under Castiel’s careful scrutiny. 

“Maybe I should,” Castiel hummed. His eyes blazed as they trailed over Dean’s skin. “Let you lay there untouched until you can’t take it anymore, and then watch as you finally make yourself come.”

Dean bit back a whimper. That should not sound as enticing as it did. However, he wanted Castiel’s hands on him tonight and he wanted them soon. Dean shifted his hips against the sheets, drawing Castiel’s gaze to where his leaking cock lay against his stomach. Looking up at his boyfriend through hooded eyes, Dean bit his bottom lip. “Please, Cas,” he said, voice pitched low. “Need you, baby.”

Castiel groaned and had to grip himself tightly by the base to calm himself down. “Yeah, Dean, I’ve got you.”

Castiel got to his knees on the bed and swung a leg over Dean until he was straddling Dean’s upper thighs. The pop of a cap opening was deafening in the quiet room. Dean’s eyes were transfixed as he watched Castiel pour a small about of lube into his hand. Before he could nervously ask where Castiel planned on going with that, his cock was enveloped by cool, slick, tight. The sudden sensation, after waiting for so long sent his eyes rolling back in his head and caused his toes to curl. 

“Oh,” he gasped. His hips pushed up off the bed to chase the feeling as Castiel’s hand began to move. Just as the lubricant had warmed up, and Dean was starting to get used to the feeling, it was gone. He let out a soft “guh?” at the loss, before looking down. 

Castiel was slicking his own cock with the same hand, then leaned forward to rest his weight on his clean hand. As he bent forward, he opened his hand and let his slick cock brush against Dean’s. Dean let out a soft shout at the sudden feeling of hot, slick skin against his own. 

The experience was only heightened when Castiel’s hand closed around them. With a whimper, Dean experimentally rocked his hips up into the tight grip. “Oh, fuck.”

With a low chuckle, Castiel began to move his hand, pumping over their cocks in time with the rocking motion of Dean’s hips. 

Dean was helpless under Castiel’s ministrations. He was left only to rock his hips up in search of pleasure and to grab and hold on to Castiel wherever he could. His left hand wrapped around Castiel’s bicep, admiring the way it flexed with every stroke. His right hand grasped at the thick muscle of Castiel’s thigh. 

In what felt like an embarrassingly short time, Dean felt heat pool and twist in his gut. His balls began to tighten and he had to squeeze his eyes shut in a weak attempt to stave off his orgasm. “Shit C,as,” he gasped, head thrown back against the pillow. “‘m gonna come.”

In a move that would turn out to be the last straw, Castiel leaned farther forward and licked a stripe up Dean’s exposed neck as he rubbed his thumb over their cockheads. 

“Cas!” Dean cried out as his orgasm ripped through him. He felt hot stripes of come splatter his chest and up to his neck as his cock pulsed. 

“Oh, fuck, Dean,” Castiel groaned, his voice faltering as his hips began to stutter. “Look at you.”

Dean opened his eyes and rolled his head down to meet Castiel’s gaze. He bit his lip and reached down to cover Castiel’s hand with his own. At the feeling of another hand on his own, Castiel let out a long groan and let his head hang down between his shoulders. 

“Dean, I - fuck.” With a low moan, Castiel came. Dean could feel Castiel’s cock pulsing against his own as new splatters of come painted his belly and chest. 

Exhausted and panting, Castiel slid over and fell onto his side next to Dean on the bed. Dean pushed himself over and onto his elbow until they were nose to nose.

“You up for a shower?”

Castiel glanced at his soiled hand and Dean’s chest and grimaced. “I think a shower would be a very good idea.”

With a fond smile, Dean leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of Castiel’s nose. “Come on, then.”

They hurried down the hall, hand in hand, like teenagers who might get caught at any second. Dean quickly set the water to hot as Castiel shut the door behind them. He may have to share a bathroom with Sam, but the bathroom more than made up for it in style and substance. The shower was glassed in next to a large jacuzzi tub that Dean was man enough to admit that he’d used on more than one occasion. 

Steam curled over the glass into the cool air of the bathroom. When Dean pulled the door open, Castiel eagerly followed him under the warm spray. His hands hadn’t left Dean’s skin for more than a second or two since they’d left the bed. Now, under the warm stream of water, Castiel gathered Dean back into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hey,” Castiel murmured. 

“Hey, back,” Dean teased, kissing him once again. 

They made out lazily under the water, one soft kiss leading easily into the next. The small part of Dean’s brain that was still functioning took a moment to marvel at it. Just a month ago, the idea of kissing Castiel at all had sent him into damn near a panic attack. Now they were officially in a relationship and spending the holidays together. The brief thought that maybe they were moving a little fast was quelled by a soft touch to his bicep and a hand cupping his cheek. Screw the timing, with Castiel he felt safe and cared for in a way he hadn’t in a long time, and nothing could compare with that.

Dean broke away from the kiss, his eyes lingered on Castiel’s flushed and kiss swollen lips. “Scoot back a sec.”

“Mm, but the water feels so good,” Castiel groaned as he let his head hang so the water could pound on the back of his neck. 

“It’ll be worth it, trust me.”

Castiel huffed, but took a step back out of the spray. Dean stepped forward to reach around him and grab at one of the bottles in the corner. “Turn around.”

With a small smirk, Castiel did as he was told. The crunch of a bottle and fingers in his hair made him jump slightly at the unexpected touch. “Not exactly what I was expecting, I’ll be honest.”

Dean grinned as he massaged shampoo into Castiel’s dark locks, his nails scratching lightly over sensitive skin. “Want me to stop?”

Castiel practically sagged against him as his body relaxed. “God, no.”

“If you were Zeppelin, I think you’d be purring right about now,” Dean teased, but there was no heat to it. He enjoyed the way Castiel fell loose and pliant under his touch. 

“Purr purr,” Castiel deadpanned, but Dean could tell he was smiling, even from behind. 

“Alright back under.” Dean guided Castiel back to rinse out the shampoo. He repeated his actions with the conditioner, lathering him up and then helping rinse it away. 

When he reached for the soap, the fancy sandalwood shit that Sam had insisted they buy, Dean turned Castiel around. He ignored the washcloth they’d grabbed in favor of running his soapy hands across every bit of skin he could find. Castiel’s breath hitched when Dean ran soap across his ribcage and over his stomach. He let out a throaty chuckle when Dean dipped a finger into his belly button. Dean gave a few lazy, soapy strokes to his soft cock before kneeling down to lavish his legs with the same careful attention. Somehow, this felt much more intimate than anything else they’d done and while it made Dean’s heart race, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Bending down, Castiel cupped Dean’s cheek and rubbed a thumb over his plush bottom lip. “Come here,” Castiel said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

Dean slowly stood and winced slightly when his knees popped. As soon as he was vertical, Castiel was pulling him in for a kiss. Suds swirled around their feet as they stood under the stream. 

“I really like you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel pulled back slightly so he could meet Dean’s eyes. Despite the way his wet hair adorably fell in his eyes, Dean wasn’t sure when he’d seen Castiel look so serious. 

Dean wrapped his arms loosely around Castiel’s neck and pressed a kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. “Right back ‘atcha, sweetheart.”

The way Castiel’s eyes crinkled as he broke out into a big, gummy smile threatened to do Dean in right there. On instinct he leaned in to softly kiss the lines next to each eye. God he was way in over his head but Dean couldn’t make himself care. As he was distracted by his boyfriend’s small quirks, Dean missed when Castiel bent to grab the soap bottle. 

“My turn,” Castiel said in a deep voice that made Dean’s cock give a half hearted twitch. The way he looked Dean over was almost predatory yet soft at the same time. The juxtaposition left Dean a little weak in the knees. 

Castiel slowly and methodically ran his hands over Dean’s skin. Dean’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he focused on those soft hands smoothing over the softness of his stomach and down to his hip. His heart just about skipped a beat when Cas sank to his knees and looked up at Dean from underneath wet lashes. Yeah, Dean was definitely filing that mental image away for a rainy day. 

Once he’d carefully cleaned every inch of Dean’s skin, Castiel pulled himself up to his feet. He shook his leg out and groaned as his knee straightened with a pop. “I’m getting too old to kneel on tile floors.”

Dean barked out a laugh as he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist. “You might as well put in for social security, old man.”

Castiel arched a brow. “You’re the one dating the old man.”

Dean tightened his hold and pulled Castiel in for a kiss. “Damn straight.”

They stood under the warm spray, making out lazily until the water began to turn cool. 

“I think we’ve killed my water heater.” Dean turned around to quickly turn off the taps. 

Castiel looked down at his hands before huffing out a laugh. “We are all pruny anyway.”

Passing the other man a towel, Dean checked his own fingers. Yup, total prune fest. “You’re right, seems like the water heater has some good timing then.” He rubbed the towel over his hair before wrapping it around his waist and moving to the large two sink counter. “I still have your toothbrush from Christmas, if you want.”

Castiel took the offered toothbrush and they easily went about their night time routine. It all felt too familiar and easy as they stood side by side. This time was only worsened by the knowledge that they were practically naked as well. Once again, Dean knew he should probably be wary about how comfortable it all was but it just felt too good. He wasn’t ready for this to get ruined, like everything eventually did. 

“I’ve got an extra pair of pajama pants if you want,” Dean offered as he walked backwards out the door and into the hall.

Castiel spit into the sink one last time before nodding and following after him. “That would be nice.”

After digging through his dresser, Dean passed him a pair of pajama bottoms and a worn t-shirt and they changed in silence before slipping into bed. He didn’t even have to ask before Castiel was laying on his back and holding an arm out in invitation. Switching off the bedside lamp, Dean scooted close and pillowed his head on Castiel’s warm and solid chest. A strong arm wrapped around him and Dean felt his body relax into safe and warm. 

He tilted his chin up and pressed a kiss against the rough stubble of Castiel’s chin. Castiel turned his head until their lips met in a tender kiss. 

“Happy New ‘Year, Cas,” Dean breathed against his lips. He could feel Castiel smile.

“Happy New Year, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love for the last chapter. I love this supportive community. Hope y'all enjoyed this one just as much. 
> 
> If you have a second, please leave a comment or kudos and let me know how I'm doing!


	12. January 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck guys. I am SO SORRY. I know it's been like... 6 months. I promised when I started this fic that I wasn't going to abandon it and I totally did. It's been one hell of a crappy year, for the world, but also just in my personal life so I sort of lost interest in everything. I love all of you who are willing to come back to this story after that long break. I promise to be better from here on out. I have the next couple of chapters written so I will try to slowly put them out while I finish the rest.

So far the new year was off to a dull start. Ellen had insisted that Dean take a few extra days off at the bar so he could spend more time with Sam, so his evenings were left perpetually free. What Ellen had forgotten was that Sam was a teenager who wanted to be out with his friends and girlfriend. Dean was left on his own more often than not and there was only so much Dr. Sexy, MD a man could watch in a week.

As the tv switched to commercial, Dean let his head fall back against the couch. Sam was out for dinner and a movie with some buddies so Dean had been parked on the couch for the last two hours with little else to do besides pet the cat. His mind had been wandering and every time it came back to Castiel. It didn’t matter what was happening on tv, Dean was busy thinking about what his new boyfriend could be doing.

Zeppelin let out a small ‘mer’ and rolled onto his back, pawing up at Dean with his front paw.

“What do you think Zep, should I call him?”

The tabby blinked up at him before wiggling from side to side in a clear command for Dean to continue to scratch his belly. 

“You’re right, I’ll text him. Less needy.” Dean shifted to grab his phone from the end table and thumbed over to his messages with Castiel. Just seeing their previous conversations put a smile on his face. 

_ Dean [6:35 pm] You free? _

_ Castiel [6:40 pm] I’m finishing the syllabus for next semester. _

_ Castiel [6:41 pm] AKA fuck yes please come distract me. _

_ Dean [6:42 pm] How do you feel about some company? _

_ Castiel [6:45 pm] Assuming the company is you, I feel excellent about it. _

_ Dean [6:49 pm] I can be over in 25 minutes.  _

_ Castiel [6:52 pm] I look forward to it.  _

Dean exhaled heavily. Okay so he was really doing this. He gently scooped the cat off his lap and dropped him onto the floor. Just walking upstairs to his room set his heart pounding. Once in his bedroom, he picked up an old backpack and sat it on his bed. His mind raced as he stared at it. He was really doing this. He was going to spend the night at Castiel’s apartment. He was going to leave Sam alone for the night so he could sleep over at his  _ boyfriend’s  _ place. 

Shaking his head, Dean grabbed a change of clothes and a pair of pajama bottoms and tucked them into the bag. Once he had his toiletries from the bathroom he stood at the top of the stairs, backpack in hand. He knew Sam was practically an adult now but his protective instincts were screaming at him to stay. 

Dean pulled his phone out and shot a quick text to Sammy. “Going out for the night, don’t expect me home until after work tomorrow.” There, it was sent, no going back now unless Castiel didn’t want him to stay. Oh God, what if Castiel didn’t want him to stay? No, he was being ridiculous. Castiel had been hinting at Dean spending the night for weeks now. “Call me if you need  _ anything _ ” he added in a second message to Sam. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean headed down the stairs, turning towards the garage. The Impala purred to life under him as he let her idle to warm up. Metallica played softly through the speakers as he gave himself one last chance to chicken out. But then the thought of the was Castiel’s face would light up when he saw Dean on his doorstep and that was it, mind made. 

The drive to Castiel’s apartment was uneventful. It hadn’t snowed in 3 days and the roads were well plowed and salted. Nonetheless, Castiel’s building looked more imposing than normal when Dean parked in front of it. 

“Come on Winchester, man up,” Dean muttered before grabbing his backpack and getting out of the car. He could practically hear his father’s voice telling him not to be a sissy as he took the stairs one by one. 

Dean took a deep breath as he stood in front of Castiel’s door and tried to calm his mind. Afterall, John Winchester was not exactly what he wanted to be thinking about when he saw his boyfriend for the first time in half a week. 

The rap of his knuckles on the front door felt deafening in the quiet evening air. Only seconds later, the door was opening to a grinning Castiel. He looked warm and rumpled in a dark blue sweater and well worn pair of jeans. His hair was ruffled as though he’d been running his fingers through it all day. To top it off he was wearing a pair of black framed reading glasses. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice sounding rough and rusty from disuse and Dean knew right there that he’d made the right choice. 

“Heya sweetheart,” Dean replied, stomping his boots on the doormat before allowing Castiel to pull him inside. “Nice glasses.”

Castiel hummed softly as he slid a hand onto Dean’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss was soft, inviting, and over far too quickly for Dean’s liking. Before he could protest or try to pull him back in, Castiel let his hand drop to Dean’s shoulder. 

“What’s this?” He asked, his fingers skating across the rough fabric of the backpack strap. 

Dean gave what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “I thought I could spend the night… you know, if you wanted.”

Castiel cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “But what about Sam?”

“He’s out tonight with some buddies and I think he’s old enough to spend one little night alone,” Dean said with another shrug as if the whole thing wasn’t a big deal instead of the reality that it was eating him up inside. “I trust him not to burn the house down.”

Castiel’s face relaxed and he looked up at Dean with wonder and happiness. Quickly, hands were pushing the straps of Dean’s backpack over his shoulders until the pack dropped to the floor. Toeing the bag to the side, Castiel crowded Dean back until his back hit the door and tossed his glasses to the side table. 

Castiel cupped Dean’s cheeks as he leaned in for a kiss. Dean responded with a happy hum and fisted his hand into the front of Castiel’s sweater to pull him in until their chests were flush. Any remaining anxiety Dean had left vanished as his mouth opened under Castiel’s. Castiel licked into his mouth and Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck to tangle in his short, dark locks. 

The kiss was everything. Everything he’d been dreaming about and hoping for. It was sweet and gentle but there was an undercurrent of urgency and sheer want as their lips slid together. Heat pooled low in Dean’s gut and he couldn’t resist the urge to rock his hips forward. Castiel’s breath hitched and he turned his own hips slightly until his erection bumped against Dean’s.

“Bedroom?” Dean suggested as he pressed a series of kisses along Castiel’s jaw and nipped at his earlobe. 

Surprisingly, Castiel shook his head no even as his own hips stuttered forward against Dean’s. Dean couldn’t help but let out a low whine of pleasure and disappointment.

“We should wait,” Castiel finally said, his words coming out in breathless pants. 

Dean buried his face in Castiel’s neck, licking and sucking just the way he knew the other man liked. “Why wait when we could have sex now and later?”

“It’ll be better if we have to wait for it,” Castiel groaned before placing his hands on Dean’s rolling hips to keep them in place. “Trust me.”

Dean let out a small sigh before looking up to meet Castiel’s gaze. “Okay, I trust you.”

Castiel leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips. “Thank you Dean.”

“Come here then,” Dean said, holding his hand out for Castiel to take. 

Castiel took his offered hand warily. “What are you doing Dean?”

“If I don’t get to fuck my boyfriend then I’m sure as hell going to at least cuddle with him.” Dean cast a smirk over his shoulder as he led them both to the living room and stopped in front of the couch. He dropped Castiel’s hand before laying down on the couch and patting the space next to him.

With a fond smile, Castiel happily curled up in front of Dean on the couch. It was nice to have their roles reversed for once. As much as he enjoyed being held, Dean found that he liked having Castiel in his arms. 

“I never would have taken you for such a cuddler,” Castiel said quietly as he burrowed deeper into Dean’s arms. 

Dean shrugged around him before leaning in to place a kiss on the back of Castiel’s neck. “Don’t go spreading it around, you’ll ruin my image,” he teased.

Dean swore he could practically feel Castiel’s eyes roll. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The room was pleasantly quiet for a moment before Castiel softly added. “It’s not like I know anyone in your life besides Sam to tell anyways.”

“You’ve met Jo and Ash at the Roadhouse,” Dean protested weakly. He was mentally kicking himself. He wanted nothing more than to show Castiel off to everyone he knew but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not while everything was so fragile and new. Not with Sam in school. 

“I’ve met them in passing as the guy who comes in once or twice a week. They think of me as a regular at best. Not exactly the relationship or introduction I was hoping for.”

Dean wished he could see Castiel’s face. Was it all hard lines and set jaw or was it soft and sad? “I know sweetheart, I know. The second Sam graduates I’ll have a party or something and you can meet everyone. It’ll give me a chance to show off my gorgeous new boyfriend. It’s just a little longer I promise. 

With a small sigh, Castiel turned around in Dean’s arms until they were nose to nose. Up close his eyes were startlingly blue and Dean found himself trying to differentiate between the shades. 

“I know, I’m sorry if I continue to bring it up. I’ve never been very good at secrets.” Castiel chewed on his lower lip, his eyes flicking down and breaking eye contact. “It’s just, with the holidays, I find that I want to introduce you to people in my life as well. My friend Balthazar knows that I’ve been seeing someone and will not stop asking me for more details. I even find that I want to tell Gabriel about you. 

In that moment Dean was struck by how hard this had to be for Castiel. It wasn’t just Dean hiding from the world. It was painful but still, Castiel did it for him. No one had ever done anything like that for him before and he found himself overwhelmed with the desire to make sure that he wouldn’t do anything stupid to screw it up. 

“You can bring them to our grand reveal party in May,” Dean said, at a loss to express how he felt in that moment. Deciding he’d always been better at actions anyways, Dean leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Castiel’s bitten lower lip. 

Castiel melted under his touch. The tension that had creeped into his arms and shoulders faded away until he was loose in Dean’s arms. Their kiss stayed gentle and easy, the urgency from before missing as they softly pressed their lips together again and again. 

Not for the first time Dean felt emotion well up inside him, asking to be let out. Even as Castiel nipped at his lower lip, Dean found himself wanting to spill his guts to Castiel. To tell him how he was falling so desperately and completely in love with him. His stomach churned at the thought and as usual, he pressed the feelings down. 

Their kisses slowed until Castiel pulled away and tucked his head under Dean’s chin, burrowing against Dean’s chest. 

“I really like you,” Castiel mumbled, his voice muffled against Dean’s t-shirt. 

Apparently, Castiel hadn’t gotten the memo about no emotions, Dean thought with a grin. Feeling warm and safe, Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head. “I really like you too sweetheart.”

“Good,” Castiel huffed before nuzzling closer. 

They laid on the couch in comfortable silence, just letting the time slowly pass by. Dean felt his eyes getting heavy when suddenly a low rumble erupted from his stomach. Castiel dissolved into a fit of giggles, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. 

“I guess it’s dinner time.” Castiel pulled back slightly so he could look at Dean with a wry grin. 

Dean felt his face heat up as he gave a nonchalant shrug. “I guess I could go for some food.”

Castiel untangled himself from Dean’s limbs and pushed himself upright. He turned to offer a hand to Dean who happily accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled to standing position. 

“How do you feel about pasta with chicken?”

Dean smiled as he followed Castiel to the small galley kitchen. “I feel good about anything you feel like cooking Cas.”

With a small nod Castiel got to work pulling ingredients out of the fridge. Dean tried to distract himself from watching Castiel’s ass in those jeans as he bent over and noticed a small bluetooth speaker in the corner. “You got any good tunes Cas?” Dean asked, before quickly adding, “and no Taylor Swift doesn’t count!”

Castiel turned around and rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault that you are too much of a neanderthal to appreciate quality music,” he teased. “Let me sync my phone to it. It’s a hand me down from Gabriel so it’s a little finicky.”

After a few minutes of Castiel tapping at his phone and jabbing at buttons on the speaker, low beats began to play. “Cas are you playing Zeppelin right now?” Dean asked as he recognized ‘Kashmir’. 

Castiel’s lips pulled into a pleased smile as he turned to pull the plastic wrap off the chicken breasts. “Yes, I thought you might enjoy that.”

Dean nodded before abruptly stopping as something occurred to him. “Cas, why did you start in the middle of the album?”

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t. This is just a playlist of the top hits. I put it on shuffle.”

With a sharp inhale, Dean’s hand flew out to grip the counter’s edge. “Cas, sweetheart, you can’t just  _ shuffle _ through their songs. You’ve got to listen to the album in order as God and Zep intended.”

Head still cocked, Castiel turned to face Dean. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I find that listening to the greatest hits of a new band is a beneficial way to get a feel for their music. I don’t see why the order of the song matters more than listening to the song itself.”

“But it’s-.” Dean sputtered, his hand flailing uselessly in front of him. “That’s not how-.”

Castiel stepped forward and crowded Dean against the counter, placing a hand on each side of him. He raised a brow in challenge. “Would it kill you to give my way a try? Just for one night?”

“It might.”

Castiel levelled him with a harsh stare.

“I guess it won't kill me.” Dean’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It might hurt a little though.”

“Would it help if I kissed it better?” Castiel asked with a smirk, his eyes flickering down to Dean’s lips. 

Dean couldn’t help but grin back at his boyfriend. “It sure wouldn’t hurt.”

The kiss was little more than the brushing of lips but Dean still felt himself shiver. No matter how often they kissed, Dean didn’t think he would ever get used to the feeling of Castiel’s lips on his. He leaned forward to try and follow those lips as Castiel pulled away.

“Tease.”

Castiel just grinned at him. “Wash off and slice the mushrooms.”

“As you wish,” Dean replied cheekily.

“You would identify with Wesley,” Castiel grumbled as he turned back to the chicken. “I should never have let you talk me into watching that movie.”

“He’s a brazenly handsome adventurer who believes in true love. What’s not to like?”

Castiel shook his head. “He’s also cocky and reckless.”

“To save the woman he loves from pirates Cas!” Dean argued, slicing his mushroom a little more aggressively that necessary. 

“Pirates that later help him save the woman he loves,” Castiel pointed out as he got his saute pan heating up.

“That’s it, I’m not showing you any more pop culture.”

After placing the chicken in the pan, Castiel crowded close to Dean to wash his hands. He gently bumped their hips together. “So I guess that means you’re cancelling that Back to the Future marathon you promised?”

Dean bumped their hips again, trying to keep the fond smile from his face. “Not a chance in hell that you’re getting out of that one sweetheart.”

As Castiel turned back to the stove to keep an eye on the chicken, the music shifted. As the first few notes played Dean grinned. His hips swayed softly to the music. 

_ ‘Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight, there moves a thread that has no end’ _

He placed his knife down and wiped his damp hands off on his jeans. Good enough. Dean started to sing quietly under his breath as he turned and crowded behind Castiel. He lightly gripped Castiel’s hips and hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder. They swayed together as Dean softly sang. “All of my love, all of my love to you, oh.”

Castiel hummed and sank back into Dean’s warm embrace. Dean slid his hands from Castiel’s hips to wrap around his stomach. 

“All of my love, all of my love to you.”

As Robert Plant continued to sing, Dean stopped following along in favor of pressing kisses to the side of Castiel’s neck. Castiel’s answering hums and groans were barely audible above the popping of the oil in the pan and the sound of the music. He let his head fall to the side, offering more skin for Dean’s exploration. They continued to sway back and forth to the music and Dean found himself cursing as he tried to ignore the feeling of friction as Castiel’s ass rubbed against him. 

Dean tugged gently at Castiel’s earlobe with his teeth before he began to sing again. “Yours is the cloth, mine is that hand that sews the time.” His voice was deep and throaty and he could feel Castiel shiver against him when he sang. “All of my love, all of my love, all of my love to you.”

As he sang, Dean closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his heart was pounding or the tightness in his chest. Here he was singing a fucking love song to Castiel for christ sake and the worst part was that Dean was loving every second of it and meant every word. Fuck he was in deep.

“All of my love to you now,” Dean kissed the spot on Castiel’s neck just above the hem of his sweater. 

“You’re going to make me burn the chicken,” Castiel said, his voice soft and rougher than normal. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Dean argued, slowly kissing and licking his way up Castiel’s neck. 

Letting out a small moan, Castiel rocked his hips backwards, pushing his ass against the beginnings of Dean’s erection. “Remember you said that when you’re eating burnt chicken for dinner.”

Dean grinned and let one hand drop down Castiel’s stomach to rest on his pelvis. He nipped at the hinge of Castiel’s jaw as Castiel tried to rock his hips forward and up into Dean’s hand. “What do you say we turn the stove off and put dinner on hold for a while?”

Castiel’s head lolled back onto Dean’s shoulder and he let out a low groan before shaking his head. “Finish the mushrooms. I’ll need to add them to the pan to make the white wine sauce in a few minutes.”

With a low whine of disappointment, Dean pressed a final kiss to the side of Castiel’s neck. He slid his hands back to Castiel’s hips and put a little distance between them. Castiel was determined to make them wait and Dean was determined not to cave in and start begging. 

He passed the mushrooms to Castiel before getting a pot of water on to boil. The rest of dinner came together seamlessly. It turned out that they made a great team in the kitchen, each man easily anticipating the needs of the other. 

“Grab us something to drink and I’ll go clear my work off the dinning table,” Castiel said once he determined that the sauce was done. 

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Dean called after him before he went to check the fridge for a beer. Thankfully Cas did not disappoint. In fact he’d apparently noticed Dean’s favorite beer and started keeping his fridge stocked just in case. God he loved that man. 

Dean piled two plates high with pasta and tucked a beer under each arm. The dining area was connected to Castiel’s living room but set aside in a small nook with a large bay window. 

They sat in easy silence as they ate. Dean was surprised at how comfortable it all felt. Occasionally their socked feet would brush under the table causing them to exchange small smiles. 

“This is really good Cas,” Dean said as he scraped the last few noodles together. 

“Thank you Dean,” Castied replied, his cheeks flushing light pink under the praise. “It was a relatively easy recipe that I learned while I was getting my Masters and I wanted to impress my mentor. I’ve been using it ever since.”

“You might have to teach me how you made it. Though, Sammy might shit a brick if I made him something this fancy.” Dean chuckled at the idea. Dean was no slouch in the kitchen, but with their busy schedules he kept their meals as simple as possible. He was the king of the 15 minute meal. Unless it was a burger, those were his real masterpieces.

“So what do you have in mind for this evening?” Castiel asked before taking a sip of his beer. 

Dean gulped as he watched Castiel’s throat work, all lines of lean muscle. He could think of about a dozen ways to answer Castiel’s question and not a single one of them was PG. His tongue flipped out to wet his lips, wishing he could lean forward to lick the residual drops of beer off Castiel’s lips. 

“I honestly didn’t really think beyond coming over,” Dean finally admitted. “I just kinda got the idea and went with it.”

Castiel smiled at him, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “It was a good idea. I’m glad you came.”

Dipping his voice into a rough purr, Dean leaned across the table to rest his hand on Castiel’s, his hand on Castiel’s, his thumb rubbing over the other man’s pulse point. “I can think of a few way we could entertain ourselves.”

“Oh I have a few things in mind as well,” Castiel replied, his own voice deep and gravely in that way that made heat pool in Dean’s gut. 

“Care to share with the class?”

Castiel placed his hand over Dean’s and looked at him through thick lashes. “Have you ever played chess?”

Dean barked out a surprised laugh, leaning back his chair and letting his head fall forward. “Really not what I was hoping you’d say there pal.”

Giving a small shrug, Castiel’s smirk was devious. “So I guess that’s a no?”

The arousal in his gut completely gone, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve played once or twice with Sam. The little twerp is persistent.”

“Will I need to be equally persistent to get you to play with me?” Castiel stood to start clearing off the table. 

“Aren’t board games for kids?” Dean asked, looking to get a rise out of Castiel as he picked up his own plate and followed the other man into the kitchen. 

Castiel turned abruptly, his brow furrowed as he glowered at Dean. “There are board games for every age and maturity level Dean. Chess is complicated in all of it’s intricacies. People, adults, play it professionally in ways that would boggle your mind.” He placed their plates down in the sink with a small huff. “Besides, you play video games, aren’t those meant for children?”

With a small snort, Dean rolled his sleeves up and started running water for the dishes. “I’m just giving you a hard time sweetheart. If it will make you happy then I will let you kick my ass in chess anytime.” He turned and pressed a kiss at the corner of Castiel’s frown. 

“No wonder Sam has only played with you twice, you’re a pain in the ass.” Castiel grumbled good naturedly as he turned to stand next to Dean and dry the dishes that he washed. 

“You lo-like it,” Dean mumbled, cursing himself for the slip. 

Castiel turned to face him, resting his hip against the counter as he gave Dean a once over. “Yes, I do.”

XXX

“I can’t believe you won!”

“Turns out, I’m a natural.” Dean grinned at Castiel’s indignant rage. 

“But my queen was right there. I can’t believe I didn’t notice that pawn!” Castiel ran his hand through his hair as he ranted, causing it to stand up wildly. He watched as Dean carefully packed away his set. “I was defeated by a  _ pawn _ .”

“Sometimes it’s us little guys that you have to look out for,” Dean teased before getting up to place the chess set on the shelf with Castiel’s small board game collection. 

Castiel stood with a huff. “We can never tell Sam that you beat me in chess with a pawn.”

Dean came over and placed his hands on Castiel’s hips, drawing him close. “I promise he’ll never know,” Dean said softly. His eyes flicked from the deep blue of Castiel’s eyes to his lips and back. “Let me make it up to you.”

Castiel hummed as he caught on. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come here and I’ll show you.” Dean hooked his index fingers through Castiel’s belt loops and pulled him along as Dean walked backwards to the bedroom. 

Once in the bedroom, Dean shut the door before pushing Castiel up against it. He nuzzled his nose along the hem of Castiel’s sweater, placing soft kisses on the edge on his collarbone, in the dip of his neck. Castiel let out soft sighs as Dean began to kiss and lick his way up Castiel’s neck. Teeth scraped over his pulse point and Castiel couldn’t resist burying a hand in Dean’s short locks. Whether he was trying to keep Dean there or pull him up for a proper kiss, he wasn’t sure. 

After a thorough exploration of every inch of skin available to him, Dean pulled back to catch Castiel’s eye. Castiel looked up at him with hooded eyes, every shade of blue swirling together. 

“Dean if you don’t kiss me soon I’ll-” Castiel started before a pair of lips cut off his half hearted threat. 

The kiss started slow but quickly turned heated, fueled on by the low simmer of arousal Dean had felt since he first laid eyes on Castiel when he arrived. Castiel’s hand moved down to cup the back of Dean’s head, his fingers tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck. His other hand ran down Dean’s back before slipping into the back pocket of Dean’s jeans. Dean groaned into Castiel’s mouth as fingers massaged the muscle there and pushed their hips together. 

Dean buried his teeth gently into Castiel’s bottom lip and tugged as the beginning of their erections brushed together. Heat flooded Dean’s veins and it felt like sparks of arousal shot through him every time Castiel rocked their hips together. 

His fingers began to dip under the hem of Castiel’s sweater, pulling it a little higher every time. Finally, Castiel seemed to get the hint and raised his arms. Dean instantly missed the feeling of warmth of Castiel’s hand in his back pocket but the disappointment was short lived as he pulled Castiel’s sweater and under shirt off and tossed them to the floor. 

Dean was intent on getting his hands and mouth on the newly exposed skin but Castiel stopped him. He pushed at the sides of Dean’s over shirt, letting it fall down his arms and pool on the floor. Dean’s t-shirt was next. Eager fingers pulled at the edge before pulling it completely up and off. 

With a low groan, Dean reached around to place a hand between Castiel’s shoulders and pulled him close until their bare skin was touching. 

“Bed. Now.” Castiel stated as he placed his hands on Dean’s chest and pushed. 

“Yes sir,” Dean quipped, too absorbed in getting his jeans open and off to see Castiel’s shiver. 

Once Castiel was equally naked, Dean pulled him down and back on the bed before crawling over him. He sat back on Castiel’s thighs and looked down at his lover. Castiel looked every bit as angelic as his name suggested with his mess hair splayed out on the light grey pillowcase. 

“God you’re gorgeous,” Dean exhaled. His hands ran over the fine hairs on Castiel’s chest, following the small trail to where his cock laid hard and heavy. “The list of things I want to do to you.”

“Anything,” Castiel whispered. “You can do,  _ have _ , anything you want Dean.”

Dean swallowed and blinked away the traitorous tear that threatened to well up. He knew that Castiel didn’t make that offer lightly and Dean wanted nothing more than to make this just as good for Castiel as it would be for him. “Do you have lube?”

Castiel raised a brow but nodded. “Top drawer of the night stand.”

Dean swung off his lap and stood to rummage through Castiel’s night stand. He could feel Castiel’s eyes on him as he moved around and it only made the heat in his gut burn hotter. He crossed the room to the adjoining bathroom and grabbed the first large towel he saw. When he got back to the bed Castiel was looking up at him with complete confusion. 

“The internet said it makes clean up easier,” Dean mumbled in defense. “Multiple sites suggested it.”

With a soft whine, Castiel pushed himself up into a seated position, grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and pulled him into a hard kiss that left them both breathless.

“You did research,” Castiel said softly in awe, as if he couldn’t believe that someone would do something so small yet meaningful. 

Dean gave a nonchalant shrug and a shy smile. “I figured you already knew how this stuff worked so maybe I should try to figure out a bit myself.”

“You are wonderful Dean Winchester.” Castiel pulled him in for another kiss, this one softer and full of things left unsaid. 

Unsure of how to respond to that without spilling his guts, Dean looked down and grabbed the towel. “Push up for me,” he said, patting Castiel’s hip before laying the towel out underneath them. 

Castiel’s erection had flagged a little but as Dean climbed onto the bed and settled down between his hips, he was quickly back to full mast. 

Dean licked a long stripe up the underside of Castiel’s cock before flicking his tongue over the cockhead. A small bead of precome gathered and he licked it up with a hum. He could tell that Castiel was dying to push his hips up and try to get his cock deeper into Dean’s mouth. With a wicked grin, Dean took just the head into his mouth, suckling lightly. 

Castiel whimpered and tangled a hand through Dean’s hair. Dean bobbed his head gently back and forth, taking a little more each time. Castiel was so distracted by Dean’s mouth that he barely noticed the fingers trail over his balls and brush down across his hole. He let out a loud gasp and his hips bucked forward, driving the head of his cock against Dean’s soft palate. 

Calloused fingers traced soft circles around Castiel’s hole, Dean’s thumb teasing and pulling at the rim with every pass. Pulling off Castiel’s cock with a wet pop, Dean pushed up so he could look Castiel in the eye. 

“Is this okay?” He asked, thumb pulling lightly on the rim.

“It’s more than fine Dean,” Castiel groaned. His voice was rough as gravel and smooth as whiskey and Dean wanted to hear him screaming Dean’s name. “Like I told you, you can do anything.”

With a wide cheshire grin, Dean settled back down between Castiel’s thighs and swirled his tongue around Castiel’s cockhead. Castiel’s heavy breathing almost covered the sharp  _ snick _ of the tube of lube opening. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Dean poured a generous amount of the cool liquid into his hand. He’d also read online that it was courteous to warm the lube up a little before use and Dean was nothing if not a courteous lover. 

One last deep breath. It was now or never. Dean had been planning this for almost a week and there was no way he was backing out now. He pulled off Castiel’s cock to give his full concentration as he dipped a finger into the warm puddle of lube.

Just like he’d read online, Dean smeared a generous coating of lube over Castiel’s entrance before slowly pushing his finger in up to the second knuckle. God damn Castiel was tight and hot and even though Dean had taken intercourse off the table for the night, he wanted nothing more in that moment than to sink his cock inside that heat. 

“You can move,” Castiel panted, rocking his hips up slightly in encouragement. 

His words brought Dean’s mind back online and he did as he was told. He slowly thrust his finger in and out, pushing a little deeper each time. Noticing that Castiel’s erection had flagged a little during the penetration, the internet said that might happen, Dean leaned back in to lap at his cock. 

“Another.” Castiel pulled gently at Dean’s hair at the command. 

Dean hummed around Castiel’s cock that was currently pressing against the back of his throat. He pulled his finger out and this time dipped two in the lube. If he thought Castiel was tight before, that was nothing compared to how he felt as Dean slowly pushed two fingers inside of him. Once he’d slid all the way inside, Dean twisted and turned them. He knew what he was looking for but the small bundle of nerves was evading him. 

“Crook your fingers a little,” Castiel advised. His words faded off into a deep moan when Dean bent his fingers and brushed over his prostate. 

It was hard to smirk around a mouthful of cock but Dean couldn’t help but feel a little smug as he brushed his fingers over that spot again and made Castiel cry out. His hips jerked involuntarily off the bed and his legs were shaking. 

“Not going to last,” Castiel warned. His free hand was gripping the sheets tight as Dean continued to suck and lick his cock while simultaneously rubbing against his prostate with every other thrust. 

Dean hummed in encouragement and pressed his tongue on the vein on the underside of Castiel’s cock just the way he liked. He set a brutal pace as he bobbed his head and finger fucked Castiel. He knew he could pull off and use his free slick hand to finish Castiel off but Dean found that he wanted Castiel to come in his mouth, wanted to taste him. 

With a shout and thrust of his hips Castiel came and hot spurts of come hit Dean’s tongue. Dean continued to suck and rub against his prostate as he worked Castiel through his orgasm. 

“God, Dean,” Castiel gasped as he came down. He pulled on Dean’s hair in indication to stop. Dean pulled his fingers out of Castiel and gave one final flick of his tongue over Castiel’s cockhead before he sat back on his heels and looked down at Castiel. His chest was flushed red and blotchy and there was a light sheen of sweat on his chest. With his already messy hair, he looked well and truly fucked.

Dean wiped his hands clean on the towel before crawling up his boyfriend’s body. His own cock still laid hard and leaking between his legs. He was so close to the edge already that he felt like if he didn’t get a hand or mouth on his cock soon he was quite possibly going to explode. 

“Cas, baby,” Dean whimpered once he was face to face with Castiel.

“You’re incredible Dean.”

Dean pulled at Castiel’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Need you Cas.” Dean rocked his hips forward seeking any source of friction. 

“Crawl up here,” Castiel said, patting Dean on the ass. 

It took Dean a minute, but when he realized what Castiel was offering, he scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled up Castiel’s chest until he was straddling Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel adjusted the pillow behind him to prop his head up before putting his hands on Dean’s hips and pulling them slightly forward until the tip of Dean’s cock bumped against his lower lip. 

Castiel licked and laved at Dean’s leaking slit, lapping up every drop of precome that beaded there. Pulling Dean’s hips forward a little more, Castiel took his cockhead into his mouth, causing Dean to bite back a loud curse. 

Dean didn’t think he would ever get used to the feeling of his cock in Castiel’s mouth. Of the warm, wet heat and suction. Of how gorgeous Castiel looked with hooded eyes as he looked up at Dean, his mouth stretched around Dean’s cock. 

At the encouraging pats and suggestive way that Castiel was pulling at his hips, Dean figured out what the other man was going for. Planting a hand on the wall behind Castiel’s head, Dean began to move his hips in slow thrusts. Castiel hummed happily before letting his mouth go lax and patting Dean’s hip again in a clear sign. Faster. 

Dean had never had a partner that was into letting him fuck their face before and fuck had he been missing out. His hips snapped back and forth as he chased his orgasm, his stomach clenching as he moved closer to the edge. Between the feeling of hot and wet and the soft sounds Castiel was making, Dean knew he wouldn’t last long. 

“Cas, sweetheart, I’m gonna- fuck,” Dean cried out, trying to warn the other man but it was too late. With a loud groan, Dean’s hips stuttered to a stop as he pumped his come down the back of Castiel’s throat. 

After a few final thrusts, Dean pulled his spent cock from Castiel’s mouth. He awkwardly rolled off to the side and shuffled down the bed until they were face to face.

“You are so damn sexy like that,” Dean murmured softly. The quiet around them felt almost sacred and he was hesitant to break it. Dean leaned in to kiss Castiel, licking into his mouth until he tasted himself on the other man’s tongue. 

“Dean, I-” Castiel started, licking his lips nervously as he met Dean’s eyes.

Dean felt his stomach drop and his heart rate skyrocket. He knew what was coming, what he didn’t know was if he was ready to hear it. “Cas wait,” he interrupted. “I know what you’re going to say and I feel the same, I really do, but not yet okay?”

Castiel frowned at Dean, his brow furrowed as he squinted in confusion. “I won’t pretend like I understand but I will respect your wishes.”

Dean swallowed heavily, suddenly wondering if he’d made the right decision or if he had just panicked. “It should be special,” Dean murmured as he stared at the wall just past Castiel’s head. “It shouldn’t be some random Tuesday night.”

A finger lifted Dean’s chin until they were eye to eye again. “Dean, any night I get to spend with you is special to me.”

At that Dean swore he melted a little inside. How was he supposed to top that? “Soon sweetheart. Soon.”

With a soft sigh Castiel rolled over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. The room was cast into darkness, only the light from the parking lot filtering in through the blinds. Once he’d turned back around, Dean pulled him close so that his head was pillowed on Dean’s chest. Any remaining tension seeped out of the room as Castiel nuzzled in closer, tangling their legs together. 

“What time is your alarm set for?”

Dean let out a low groan. “Five thirty. I have to get to the garage early to open up. Don’t worry though, I don’t expect you to get up with me. I can slip out of here real quietly.”

“Like I’m letting you go to work without coffee, some sort of breakfast, and a container of leftovers,” Castiel huffed. “Besides, that’s normally when I get up to go run.”

For what had to be the hundredth time that night Dean felt a rush of affection for the man in his arms. He meant what he’d said earlier about wanting the moment he told Castiel he loved him to be special, but the other man, but was making it harder and harder to not just blurt it out. 

“You sure know how to treat a guy right,” Dean mumbled before leaning down to press a kiss to Castiel’s head. 

“Get some rest Dean,” Castiel softly replied. 

“‘Night Cas.”

“Good night Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for sticking with me through all of this. Please leave a review or comment to let me know what you thought and if it was worth the wait. Kudos and comments always get my brain going!


	13. January

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go skiing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm back from the dumpster that has become my life. I'm so sorry for disappearing again. My depression has continued to take over my life these last few months so creativity has been a challenge. I'm starting ECT in 2 weeks though so I'm really hopeful that things will turn around and I can finally get this bad boy finished. There are only three more chapters to come! So much love to anyone who's put up with me this last year. I'll stop talking now and let us get on with the show!

Chapter 13 Friday, January 13th

“Why does four am even exist?” Dean groaned, slumping back against the counter as the coffee machine gurgled softly behind him. 

“Because we have to be at school by five,” Sam replied, sounding far too awake for the early hour. 

Dean groaned again. “And why did I agree to fucking chaperone this stupid trip?”

“I think your exact words were ‘no way am I missing a free ski trip bitch’.”

Yeah, Sam was definitely too awake for the early hour. “Yeah whatever, go use that giant brain of yours to get us some cereal.”

With a snort, Sam went to grab them both bowls. By the time he had the cereal out and poured, the coffee was blissfully done brewing. Dean poured each of them a mug and followed Sam to the table. They ate and drank in relative silence, each Winchester too tired to care about much more than getting food into their mouth. 

Once their duffles were in the back of the Impala, Dean brought the engine to life. It was 4:23 and they had more than enough time to make the trip to school so he let the engine warm-up and began shuffling through the box of tapes for appropriate tunes. Nothing said pre-dawn like Zeppelin IV. 

“Why do we have to leave so damn early again?” Dean knew he was whining, but at this point, he was too tired to care. He’d stayed up far too late chatting with Castiel on the phone the night before. 

Dean grinned at the thought. He’d purposefully neglected to mention to Castiel that he’d be chaperoning the trip. He knew that Castiel was signed up as a faculty chaperone and he wanted to surprise his boyfriend. Even if they couldn’t act like a couple, they could still have a nice weekend together in the snow. Nothing was more romantic than being out in the snow, right?

“The ski resort is a little over three hours away and they want us to have plenty of time to ski today,” Sam patiently explained as they drove through the abandoned streets. 

“Kansas needs to grow some closer mountains,” Dean grumbled. Three hours on a bus full of high schoolers. Hopefully this ski resort had a bar. 

“It’s going to be a great weekend if you can get that stick out of your ass,” Sam snarked.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

They fell into a companionable silence for the rest of the trip. Dean was actually more than a little excited for the trip and it was seniors only. He hoped that the age would limit the amount of stupid he’d be in charge of this weekend. When they pulled into the school parking lot though, his excitement quickly faded away. There was a mass of teenagers waiting in the cold outside of a long bus. Their luggage was in a huge pile, waiting to be loaded under the bus. To the side, a small group of adults were clustered together. It looked like chaos waiting to happen. 

The Impala smoothly turned into a parking spot and once Dean killed the engine, Sam was out of the car, completely forgetting to grab his duffle in his excitement to find his girlfriend. “Fucking moose,” Dean grumbled to himself as he watched Sam in the rearview mirror. 

Once the warmth began to seep out of the car, Dean took a deep breath and steeled himself. He could deal with kids and their annoying parents if it meant he got a weekend with Castiel. He grabbed both his and Sam’s luggage before double checking that his Baby was locked and safe for the weekend. 

He added their bags to the large pile before making his way over to the group of adults. His heart sunk when he didn’t see anyone who looked like Castiel but it was hard to tell with everyone so bundled up. 

“Who’s in charge around here?” he asked, determined not to feel uncomfortable when the group of about 10 parents and teachers turned to look at him. 

“Dean?” Castiel stepped into view from behind someone and Dean felt a little weak in the knees. With a light grey knit bennie and a thick blue scarf over his black pea coat, Castiel looked fucking _adorable_ in his winter gear. His head was cocked to the side and his brow was furrowed in confusion. “Is something wrong with Sam?”

“Nah he’s great. He’s over there galavanting around with Jessica.”

“Are you Dean Winchester?” 

Dean turned to see a sharp looking woman holding a clipboard watching him.

“Last I checked,” Dean said with a grin.

She did not look amused in the slightest, focusing instead on her clipboard. “Good, you’re our last chaperone. In about five minutes we will load the students onto the bus. If you need to use the restroom, I suggest you step inside because you do _not_ want to be forced to use the lavatory on the bus.”

At that she turned away, dismissing them. Dean caught Castiel’s eye and gave a small jerk of his head towards the school. Castiel went first so as not to be suspicious and Dean followed a minute later. He didn’t make it very far into the school before a hand grabbed his leather jacket and pulled him into an empty classroom. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean said with his best ‘aren’t I adorable’ grin.

Castiel gave him a once over as if he was checking to make sure that Dean was really there. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it was obvious, I’m here to chaperone some little shits.” Dean smirked

If possible, Castiel’s brow furrowed further and he looked even less amused. “ _Why_ are you a chaperone?”

“I signed up at the beginning of the school year, so don’t think I’m stalking you or anything. I was just in it for the free trip,” Dean started as he took a step closer. He was starting to feel self conscious under Castiel’s harsh gaze. “When you told me a few weeks ago that you were going too, I thought it would be a fun surprise. Was I wrong?”

Castiel softened at his concern and he took a step to close the distance between them. “No, it was a good surprise, really. I just don’t do surprises well since I was discharged.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think of that! Cas, sweetheart I’m so sorry-.”

Castiel leaned in and cut off Dean’s rambling with a kiss. The kiss was soft, sweet, and over far too quickly for Dean’s liking. “No more apologizing, you had no way to know.”

Dean nodded, looking down to tangle his fingers with Castiel’s. “Okay.”

“The only real problem here is how am I going to be able to keep my hands to myself all weekend?” Castiel asked with a grin. 

“You think you have that problem? Sorry buddy but my situation is way worse. You see, there’s this sexy as hell English teacher here and he has an ass that wont quit in the jeans he’s wearing. How am I supposed to cope?”

Castiel huffed out a laugh. “I guess we will just have to find the time.”

Dean’s grin grew as he pressed another chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips. “Sounds good to me teach. We should probably head back out there. That lady in charge was scary.”

“Ah yes, Naomi,” Castiel said as he followed Dean to the door. “She is rather intimidating.”

“Hurry up, we are ready to get the students on the bus!” Naomi called as soon as they stepped outside. 

Dean turned to smirk at Castiel before he jogged ahead to get started. The kids were surprisingly easy to organize and filed orderly onto the bus. Most of the chaperones followed them on to take their seats but Dean stayed behind with the bus driver to finish getting the last of the luggage stored away under the bus. The bus driver thanked him as he made his way into the bus.

“No problem man,” Dean said as he climbed up the steps in front of the bus driver, Eric. 

He walked through the aisle, looking for an empty spot. He found one three rows in and grinned. “Is this seat taken?”

Castiel looked up from his phone with a carefully neutral expression and a small shrug. “No, it’s free.”

“Thanks.” Dean slid into the seat with a small smirk.

Their knees brushed as he tried to get comfortable. Maybe if he was lucky he could squeeze in a bit of a nap on the way there. Once the bus pulled away from the front of the school, Naomi got up to make announcements and reiterate the rules for the long weekend. The students would be left mostly on their own during the day except for a set dinner time and a strict 10 pm curfew. Doors would be taped and anyone caught outside their assigned room at night faced suspension and their parents would be forced to come pick them up right away. Dean winced a little at that. He knew that if he’d had this opportunity when he was Sam’s age, he’d do his damndest to get out of his room for the night.

He settled back against the headrest and let his head roll towards Castiel as he tried to get some shut eye. Just as soon as he closed his eyes, he felt something press against his lap. Looking down, he saw a tablet settled on his and Castiel’s knees. Castiel watched him put two and two together, expectantly holding out an earbud.

“Would you like to watch Doctor Who with me?”

Dean did his best to suppress a grin. “You know you’re a giant nerd right?”

“Was that a yes?” Castiel huffed.

Shoulders shaking with silent laughter, Dean took the offered earbud and turned his attention down toward the screen. “So which season are you on anyways?”

“Oh, I’m rewatching from the beginning so this is season one with the 9th Doctor,” Castiel explained.

“How are there 9 Doctors if there has only been one season?”

The look Castiel gave him could freeze water. Instead of answering, he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and began jabbing angrily at the keys. A moment later, Dean felt his own phone buzz in his jeans. He fished it out with a smirk.

_Castiel [6:31 am] This officially proves that you never listen to a thing I say_

_Dean [6:33 am] It’s not my fault that you’re so hot it’s distracting sweetheart._

Dean heard Castiel snort softly in the seat next to him before his phone buzzed again.

_Castiel [6:34 am] Nice save there Winchester._

_Dean [6:35 am] ;)_

_Dean [6:36 am] Now are we going to actually watch this show or just bicker about it?_

After Castiel’s phone buzzed for the last time, he slipped it back in his pocket and pressed play on his tablet. The show started right away and though it was a little slow for Dean’s liking, he quickly got more and more into the story. The Doctor was a little surly and wore a leather jacket so he got an automatic pass in Dean’s book.

Across the aisle one of the parent chaperones kept giving them small glances whenever Castiel laughed or huffed along to the show. Dean tried not to panic. Those looks could mean anything. Maybe she was bored? Maybe she found Castiel half as distracting as Dean did and couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He took a deep breath as the credits on the first episode began to roll on the screen and Looky-McLookerston over there glanced at them again. He hadn’t done anything. If anything, he and Castiel just looked like buddies and while being friendly with your child’s teacher might be a little unorthodox, Dean could live with those assumptions. It’s not like she could see their text messages or the dirty pictures Castiel had sent him the night before.

Still, Dean couldn’t help feeling on guard when glanced over again. He reached for his phone and typed out a quick message to Castiel.

_Dean [7:17 am] I think you have a secret admirer._

_Castiel [7:19 am] Is it you? Because that’s not a secret Dean._

_Dean [7:20 am] Well it’s technically a secret but stop getting me off topic._

_Dean [7:21 am] The broad across the aisle from us looks over here any time you make a noise or move._

_Dean [7:23 am] Stop leaning around like that to get a better look! You’re gonna get us caught._

_Castiel [7:25 am] That’s Mrs. Clarkston. Her son is in my 5_ _th_ _period writing course. I dread reading anything he writes but he can play football so he’s going to any school he wants._

_Dean [7:26 am] I thought teachers were supposed to like all their students and treat them equally. :P_

_Castiel [7:27 am] Now I KNOW you haven’t been listening to anything I say._

“Want to watch another episode?” Castiel asked, doing his best to sound neutral. “We still have about two episodes worth of driving time left.”

“Sure, bring on the Doctor,” Dean replied, nodding to the tablet.

The rest of the trip passed smoothly and almost too quickly for Dean’s liking. Even if they had to hide, it was nice just sitting there watching tv with Castiel. Dean loved how Castiel would get excited for certain moments and he smiled everytime he caught Castiel watching his reactions instead of the screen. Just minutes after the Doctor successfully saved the planet from the Daleks, the bus rolled to a stop in front of the resort. 

Naomi got up in the front to once again put the fear of God in the students to guarantee an orderly check in process. Dean groaned as he popped his back once he was off the bus. Those bucket seats had nothing on his Baby. Letting out a low whistle, he turned to give the resort a once over. The Mount Crescent Ski Area and Resort was far nicer than anywhere Dean could have imagined taking a vacation. 

The resort itself was three stories of wood and white brick that seemed to glow in the early morning light. Above the entrance, the roof rose in three recessing gables, each taller than the one before it, so that it resembled the mountain peaks in the distance. Large evergreen trees towered over each side of the building and Dean could just make out what looked like a shovelled pathway through them. With the fresh dusting of snow it looked damn near picturesque. If the outside was this beautiful he couldn’t wait to see what his room looked like, even if he did have to share with one of the other male chaperones. 

“Alright, does everyone have their baggage?” Castiel hollered over the crowd, slipping easily into teacher mode as the chaos of unloading the bus began to die down. 

He was met by a chorus of ‘yes’ and nods. “Okay, go with your two assigned chaperones and get checked in. If everything goes as planned we can have you on the slopes in no time.”

The kids looked around excitedly at their friends before splitting up and making their way to their designated spots. Dean suddenly found himself in charge of 10 eager high school seniors. As he ran his hand over his mouth while he bought himself a moment to think, his teacher chaperone that he was partnered with stepped up and began giving directions. He felt his shoulders sag with relief. If he was going to be doing this then he was going to need a hell of a lot more coffee. 

The check in process went as smoothly as anyone with teenagers could have hoped for. Within 20 minutes, all the students had their room keys and everyone was getting settled in. Dean met his roommate for the weekend, a quiet mousy man named Steven who had been pressured into chaperoning by his ex-wife and was quick to assure Dean that he didn’t snore. He seemed as equally clueless as Dean felt and Dean tried to feel bad about taking comfort in that fact. 

Clueless or not though he was back in the lobby 15 minutes later, handing out ski passes to his group of kids and trying to memorize everything his partner was saying. Something about times to meet and rules about how often to check in. The teenagers just nodded along while Dean felt like he should be taking notes. As the kids all filtered off to go rent their skis, his anxiety spiked. Who had agreed to let him do this? He could barely take care of himself some days, adding Sam into the mix just made things harder. Now he was responsible for 10 lives and they hadn’t even had the decency to assign Sam to his group. How was he supposed to trust some other equally clueless parent to watch out for his giant moose of a brother?

He let out a heavy sigh as the teens splintered off into their friend groups. He was just trying to decide if he wanted to nap or ski when he felt a familiar presence at his side. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Castiel. 

“The mountains are beautiful, aren’t they?

Dean hummed in response, his hands shoved deeply in his pockets so he would remember to keep his hands to himself for three days. The mountains really were beautiful. What they lacked in height, they made up for in the beauty of a fresh blanket of soft snow. Thankfully, the entire back wall of the lodge was covered in floor to ceiling windows so you could look out on the slopes from anywhere. 

“How are you holding up?” Castiel asked, making sure to stand with a reasonable distance between them which just felt _wrong_.

Dean shrugged, looked at the slopes and then longingly back up to his room. “I’m pretty wiped honestly. They’ve got a beginners class this afternoon though when I’m off duty so I think I’ll check that out.”

Castiel nodded, his face very serious as he looked towards the massive fireplace that took up the majority of one wall. “I think you’ve earned some rest. I know you’re not exactly a ‘morning person’.”

Dean had to laugh at that. He kind of loved that Castiel always insisted on making the air quotes with his fingers. “You can’t talk man. Have you met you before coffee?”

Castiel huffed but didn’t have a retort. One point for the Winchester. 

Dean looked around at the chaos around them before leaning in and lowering his voice. “I wish you could come join me in bed. You should see my roommate though. He looks fresh off the golf course and like a stickler for the rules.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Staff members all have individual rooms. I think I may go lie down on my giant king size bed and enjoy some peace and quiet.” Castiel smirked up at him. 

“You know you’re an asshole right?” Dean grumbled, but there was no heat to his words. 

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Castiel called over his shoulder as he walked towards the elevator. 

“Definitely an asshole,” Dean mumbled to himself before he followed suit.

X

Dean hardly realized that he had fallen asleep until his alarm for lunch blasted AC/DC at him. He blindly reached around on the nightstand before he found and silenced his phone. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t meant to lay down at all, he’d merely come up to the room to chance into some warm weather clothes for when he went outside. But once he’d looked at the queen bed he couldn’t resist the urge to give it a test drive. And now he’d slept through the first two hours of his first shift as a chaperone. Well done Winchester, well done. 

He turned on his side and nuzzled his face back into what was possibly the softest pillow he’d ever seen and let out a long sigh. Everything else on the trip could end up awful but Dean would still call it a win due to these beds. Maybe it was time for an upgrade at home.

After another minute, he hauled his tired ass out of bed and made it to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. Feeling more alert than he had all morning, Dean slipped into the closest thing he had to ski gear and made his way downstairs to get some lunch and check in with his partner before hitting the slopes. They were set up for 8 hour shifts for the first day so they could get a little skiing of their own in. It had been Benbrook’s not so subtle way of bribing parents to chaperone and it had certainly worked on Dean. 

In the dining room, Dean was pleased to see that all 10 of his charges were clustered around two tables. Across the room he could see Sam’s head poking up above his shorter classmates. He did a quick check in with his students before ignoring all of his brotherly instincts to embarrass his brother and walking over to the teacher and chaperone table. Naomi was blissfully missing, but unfortunately so was Castiel. Dean took a deep breath and put on what he hoped was a convincing smile before sitting down at the last empty spot. 

It turned out that while his fellow chaperones were all significantly older and wealthier than him, they were all perfectly friendly to the newcomer to their group. Apparently half the table played something called ‘Bunco’ together and had decided as a group to sign up for the trip. When they inevitably asked Dean what he did for a living they didn’t even turn up their noses at him for being a mechanic. Instead, one of the fathers, Charles, leaned in and started discussing classic Mustangs. Maybe the Benbrook parents were _all_ bad after all. 

Once he was finally fed and able to extricate himself from their small interrogation (No he didn’t have a girlfriend. No he definitely was not looking for one.) he made his way out into the lobby. It had cleared out significantly since their arrival, most of the students out on the hills. Before he could make it to the door that led to the ski rental station a head of dark, messy hair caught his eye in front of the fireplace.

Dean couldn’t keep the small smile from his face as he walked over and leaned against the back of the couch just behind Castiel whose nose was buried in a book. “Whatcha reading?”

Castiel jumped about a foot in the air, his book sliding from his lap to the floor. The stern glare that Castiel turned on him just made Dean grin wider. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to startle combat veterans?”

Dean’s heart and stomach dropped. Oh shit, he hadn’t even thought of that. What if he’d triggered a flashback or panic attack or-. His thoughts were running a mile a minute but slammed to a halt when he saw a corner of Castiel’s lips pull to the side in a small smile. “Oh, you asshole!”

Castiel dissolved into a fit of laughter as Dean reached around to smack him with one of the throw pillows. “Your face!”

“You can’t joke about that shit!” Dean grumbled, hitting Castiel in the arm once more for good measure. 

Castiel arched a brow at him. “First of all, it’s my trauma so it’s my choice how I cope with it. Secondly, I’ve been in therapy for six years Dean. I’m not perfect but I’m in a good place. Third, you’re not quite as stealthy in those boots of yours as you think you are.”

Not for the first time that morning, Dean wished he could kiss the smug look off Castiel’s face. Instead, he settled for a final hit in the shoulder with the pillow. “You’re a bitch Cas.”

“Right back at you assbutt,” Castiel replied, his voice perfectly even.

With a snort of laughter, Dean had to grip tightly to the back of the couch as he fought for breath around his quiet laughter. “I’m sorry but did you just call me _assbutt_?”

Castiel shrugged and reached down to pick his book up from the floor. “You heard me perfectly Dean.”

“Oh man, that’s going to be your new name in my phone,” Dean said as he clutched the stitch in his side he’d developed from laughing so hard. 

“Did you want something when you came over here or are you just here to distract me from my book?” Castiel asked, giving him a long suffering sigh. 

“I’m headed out for the beginners classes if you want to join me, it looks like you’re clearly on your off duty shift.”

Castiel frowned. “Unfortunately, faculty doesn’t have off duty hours. Naomi believes that it’s already our job on a normal day to look after these students, so a weekend should be nothing.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit,” Dean grumbled, trying to hide his disappointment. Maybe over the last month, he’d imagined him and Castiel riding the gondola together up the hill, their hands held through thick mittens in their brief moment of privacy. 

Castiel hummed his agreement. “I wouldn’t be one for skiing anyways. Not since an ill fated trip as a teenager where Gabriel managed to pull down my ski pants halfway down the mountain. Do you know how cold snow is on your bare ass Dean? Because I do and I’m not eager to ever find that out again.”

Well that was quite the mental image. Dean was stuck between horrified and hysterical laughter, so what came out instead was a less than graceful sputter. “I…. I honestly have no idea if I should volunteer to kick his ass for you or give him a high five because that is a perfect big brother move.”

With a huff of annoyance, Castiel turned back to his book and tucked the soft blanket over his lap over his feet. “Do enjoy the slopes Dean. Try not to fall, freezing wet denim is not comfortable.”

Suddenly tinged with regret, Dean leaned over the back of the couch until his mouth was inches from Castiel’s ear. He blindly pointed to something on the page Castiel had open, hoping that any passersby would think he was checking out the book and not the man reading it. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have laughed. You know I’ll kick Gabe’s ass for you any time,” he murmured.

He could see from the crinkles next to Castiel’s eyes that the other man was smiling so before he could make an ass of himself again he began to pull away. Long fingers briefly wrapped around his wrist, keeping him in place. “Enjoy your skiing Dean,” Castiel said softly before releasing him. 

Walking towards the door towards the ski rental kiosk, Dean gently touched the spot on his wrist where Castiel’s hand had been. Just that small amount of contact had been electrifying and Dean was reminded of how he hadn’t been able to spend any quality time with Castiel in just over a week. It was amazing how quickly that had become too long for them to be apart, at least as far as Dean was concerned. 

X

The beginners ski class was two parts awesome and one part embarrassing. He was by far the only adult in the crowd of mostly preteens and students from Benbrook but the instructor did a good job of treating them all equally. It was about 30 minutes before he had to go back in and relieve his chaperone partner when he finally got on the gondola to try his first real run. 

As the chair came around and scooped him up, Dean did his best to focus on how he wished Sam could have been there with him instead of the fact that he was hundreds of feet off the ground on a rickety contraption suspended by a cable that could break at any second. No big deal. 

As the gondola slowed as he approached the top he began to psych himself up to dismount. He’d done it on the baby version down below, just stand and push off, simple right? But as his chair approached the drop off point he began to panic. This thing was still moving way too fast. Was it broken? Did they really think that he could just hop off like it was no big deal?

Okay Winchester you’re an adult. Little kids do this all the time. With a couple of quick breaths to psych himself up, Dean stood as his chair slowed down and awkwardly pushed himself out of the way of the next chair. 

The easiest green run was off to the right so Dean followed a group of teenage girls as he slowly slid to the top of the run. The hill looked steeper than he’d expected and it was particularly daunting after nothing but bunny slopes. Unconsciously humming the opening bars of ‘Ramble On’, Dean took a deep breath and took the plunge. 

Adrenaline flooded his veins as he whizzed past trees and other people. He found himself panicking and angling his skis so that his speed slowed until he was more confident that he wouldn’t run anyone else over. He let out a loud ‘whoop’ as the cold wind bit at his exposed face. As he approached the bottom, his fear had practically disappeared and he couldn’t wait to go again.

Unfortunately, he was out of time for the day. A quick check of his phone showed that he only had about ten minutes left to give his skis back and get upstairs to change out of his damp clothes before he needed to switch over with his partner. Thankfully, the line to return his skis and poles was short and he made it back inside the lodge in no time. 

He couldn’t help but glance over towards the fireplace to see if Castiel was still there. Turned out, his favorite little bookworm was still curled up on a couch in front of the fire. With a devious grin, Dean rubbed his freezing hands together as he made his approach.

“Heya, Cas, how’s the boring dead guy?” He asked, casually leaning over the back of the couch. 

“Proust is not a ‘boring dead guy’ Dead,” Castiel scolded, not even looking up from his book. 

Oh it was on. As subtly as possibly, Dean slid his freezing fingers along the back of the couch to rest just behind his boyfriend’s neck. “I bet you can’t summarize that book in a way that wouldn’t make me want to fall asleep,” Dean replied as he wrapped his cold fingers around the back of Castiel’s neck. 

Castiel let out a small yelp and squirmed in his seat to get away from the sudden cold. He whipped around in his seat to glower up at Dean who had collapsed over the back over the seat as he laughed. Thankfully, the lobby was mostly empty so they only garnered a few unimpressed looks.

“Next time we are out in the snow you better watch your back Winchester,” Castiel growled, his blue eyes dark and glinting with mischief. Dean was so screwed. 

“Any time, any place Novak,” Dean replied as he began to back away from the couch. “Any time!”

With a wink, Dean turned and made his way back upstairs to his room to change and dry off. As he waited for the elevator his hands flexed with the desire to go back and run through Castiel’s hair and along his warm skin until they finished warming up. Maybe once they came out into the open after Sam’s graduation they could come back for a proper ski trip. 

X

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of teenage crises. Between lost gloves, a misplaced phone, and, God help him, a crying teenager, he didn’t have as much down time as he expected. After dinner, it was all hands on deck to keep the kids entertained and from sneaking off in pairs to their rooms. 

By curfew at 10 o’clock, Dean was exhausted. He had just finished taping doors on his hallway and, instead of going back to his room for awkward small talk with Steven, he made his way down to the bar. He probably wasn’t supposed to be drinking on the job but one little glass of whiskey never hurt anyone right? Right. 

Just the act of sliding onto the stool at the end of the bar released some of the tension in Dean’s shoulders. The bartender was quick to bring Dean his double whiskey and Dean sat back with a soft sigh of contentment. Behind the bar was more floor to ceiling windows and, since dinner time, snow had begun to fall in soft flurries. It was almost mesmerizing to watch and he quickly got lost in his own head. 

“A glass of the Hudson Valley Cabernet please,” a rough voice said as someone slid onto the barstool next to him. 

Without turning to look, Dean took a small sip. “Drinking on the job teach?”

Castiel snorted as the bartender passed him his drink. “If you think that every single parent and teacher hasn’t been down to this bar at some point today then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Even Naomi?” Dean asked with a smirk. 

“Okay she’s probably the one exception. Now can we please not discuss my boss while I’m trying to flirt with you?”

Dean turned and raised a brow. “I’m sorry, but is this your attempt at flirting?”

Under the counter, a hand ran along Dean’s thigh and down to his knee before inching back towards his groin. Dean took a sharp breath through his nose. 

“I’m sorry, you were saying?”

Dean took a long gulp of whiskey, focusing instead on the burn in his throat instead of the point of heat on his leg. “Shut up.”

With a confident grin, Castiel turned back to look out the window. They watched the snow fall in a comfortable silence until they finished their drinks and closed out their tabs. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Castiel asked as he pulled on his pea coat and wound his scarf around his neck. 

Dean glanced at his phone, it was almost 11 o’clock but he still felt full of energy. Being around Castiel made it feel like electricity was zapping through his limbs and he wasn’t ready to give that up for the night. Pulling on his own leather jacket, Dean nodded. “Yeah let’s do it.”

The snow was still falling in flurries as they stepped outside. Castiel pulled on that damn adorable beanie, leaving a few locks of hair sticking out to curl around his ears and lay against his forehead. Dean’s fingers itched with the urge to touch him so he stuffed them deep inside the pockets of his jacket. He felt like a teenager again, allowed to look, but not touch. 

“You want to take the trail?” Dean said, nodding his head in the direction to the paved trail through the trees. 

Castiel nodded and started walking in that direction. Dean was hot on his heels and quickly caught up until they were matching stride for stride. They strolled along the trail that was dimly lit by the full moon overhead and the soft glow of lanterns along the pathway. The silence was comfortable and Dean felt his mind go calm for the first time all day when Castiel reached out and took his hand. Dean immediately wished that he had his gloves with him but the cold air on his skin was worth it. 

Once they could no longer see the lodge, Dean stopped abruptly. 

“Is everything okay?” Castiel asked, a warm cloud of air from his mouth visible in the night air. 

Dean took a step closer and grabbed Castiel by the scarf and gently pulled until they were chest to chest. “Everything is perfect,” Dean whispered before pulling Castiel in for a kiss. 

His lips were cold and chapped from the wind, but they quickly warmed under Dean’s. Dean lazily ran his tongue across Castiel’s bottom lip, taking time to explore, more than asking for permission. Castiel apparently did not have the same patience as Dean and swept his tongue into Dean’s mouth, tangling them together. Hand’s gripped tightly at Dean’s hips, holding them close as the kiss turned hot and heated. 

Dean could feel the beginnings of Castiel’s erection pressing against a thigh and bit back a moan. He wanted the man in his arms so desperately, but he was also starting to lose feeling in his fingers. Regretfully, he pulled back, breaking the kiss to shove his hands in his pockets. 

The other man looked stunning in the moonlight. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold and there were snowflakes caught in his hair and on his eyelashes. “God you’re gorgeous,” Dean breathed, running a cold finger across Castiel’s jawline.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was quiet, but sure as he caught and held Dean’s gaze. “I love you.”

Dean was pretty sure that his heart completely stopped at those three little words. ‘ _I love you_ ’. His brain screeched to a halt and for a moment his eyesight began to tunnel. He had known this moment was coming and he thought he had been ready, he really did, but here he was completely frozen in fear. He’d never told anyone but family that he loved them and that was rare enough as it was. 

With Dean still frozen, Castiel took a small step back and let his hands slide from Dean’s hips. “I’m sorry Dean. I know you wanted to wait for the right time and I just thought here with the snow and -.”

Brain finally back online, Dean pulled Castiel in for a desperate kiss. The kiss was little more than the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth. He wanted nothing more to tell Castiel how he felt but the words were stuck in his throat. If he couldn’t say it though, he could certainly try to show him.

Pulling back to gasp for breath, Dean stared at Castiel’s kiss swollen lips as freezing air stung his lungs. “Cas I-,” Dean started, his fingers digging tightly into Castiel’s scarf so that he couldn’t get away while Dean tried to get his thoughts out. “You know that I… I mean. Fuck.”

Castiel’s eyes were sad as he placed a gloved hand on Dean’s cheek. “It’s okay Dean. I didn’t tell you because I wanted something in return. I told you that I love you because I do and I couldn’t keep that to myself any longer.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as his heart broke a little more under Castiel’s kind words. “I’m sorry Cas. I ruined the night. You can go back first if you want. I’ll wait around here for a few minutes to give you your privacy and time to get ahead of me.”

Sad blue eyes turned fierce as Castiel gripped Dean’s chin in his hand. “Dean Winchester you are the most infuriating man I have ever met,” he growled. “I know that you have issues with some of this and I have no desire to push you too fast. But you have to know that I love you and I will not let you push me away unless you sincerely want me gone.”

Dean’s shoulders sagged and he fell forward to rest his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “I don’t know why I can’t say it.”

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and held him tight. Dean slid his hands into the pockets of Castiel’s jacket and tucked his face against his scarf covered neck. “It’s okay Dean. We have all the time in the world.”

They stood there, clinging to each other in the moonlight until Dean began to shiver. His leather jacket was nowhere near as thick as Castiel’s pea coat and he was freezing. “What do you say we go back up to my room and continue this where it’s not 20 degrees outside?” Castiel asked softly, as if he was scared to spook Dean. 

Dean nodded and placed a kiss on the bolt of Castiel’s jaw. “That sounds perfect sweetheart.” 

Desperate to keep his hands slightly warm, Dean kept them tucked in his jacket pockets as they walked back towards the lodge, but their shoulders brushed together on every other stride. The silence between them wasn’t comfortable any more, but charged with emotion and words unsaid. When the lodge came into sight and Castiel took a step to put more distance between them, Dean wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. 

Despite the barrage of thoughts flooding Dean’s brain he could feel the tension between them like a tangible thing. It set his heart racing and his stomach filled with butterflies. It wasn’t until they were waiting for the elevator that he really realized what was going on. Castiel has just expressed how he felt about Dean and now they were going back to his room. As they stepped into the elevator, Dean was suddenly desperate to show Castiel how he felt. If he couldn’t say it maybe he could show it. 

It turned out that Castiel's room was just down the hall from his own. They snuck past a row of taped doors, their footsteps muffled by the soft carpet. Dean pressed up against Castiel’s back, ghosting a kiss over the bolt of his jaw. 

“Not out here Dean,” Castiel growled softly as he fumbled for his key. It took two tries for Castiel to get the door to click open. 

As soon as the small light turned green, Dean reached around to push the door open. He could see a large king bed in the middle of the room and shivered with sheer want before he flipped around and pressed Castiel back against the closed door. His fingers immediately went to pull at Castiel’s hat and scarf.

“Dean what are you-.” Castiel started before breaking off in a gasp as Dean tossed his scarf on the floor and began to suck a bruise on his pulse point. 

“Need you Cas,” Dean groaned. He was desperate to show Castiel how he felt and how much he wanted him. How much he loved him even if he couldn’t say it right now. He tugged at the buttons of Castiel’s pea coat before he pushed it over his shoulders, off his arms, and onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

A hand came around the rest on Dean’s cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “It’s okay Dean, we have time,” Castiel murmured before dragging him up into a kiss. 

Castiel’s lips were soft and tender against his own and Dean bit back a whimper as emotions washed over him. Still pressing Castiel firmly against the door, Dean ran a hand up into Castiel’s already messy hair, while the other pressed against his chest to keep him still. The kiss turned heated as Castiel’s tongue slid along his own. Castiel’s kisses were intoxicating. It was all tongues and teeth and heat and Dean couldn’t get enough. 

Finally, Castiel began to tug at Dean’s leather jacket and it spurred Dean into action. He angled his hips so that the beginning of his erection brushed against the bulge forming in Castiel’s jeans. Both men let out a groan at the sudden friction. Dean broke the kiss and began to explore the stubble across Castiel’s jaw and down his neck, licking and sucking kisses as he went. 

When he ran into the neck of Castiel’s sweater, Dean dropped to his knees amidst their scattered outerwear. His fingers made quick work of Castiel’s belt and the button of his jeans and shortly after he got the jeans pulled down to Castiel’s thighs. In front of him, Castiel’s cock bulged against the fabric of his boxer briefs. 

Letting out a low groan, Dean nuzzled Castiel’s inner thigh, up and over the bulge. He left teasing kisses everywhere but his cock and ran his teeth over the sharp just of Castiel’s hipbones. He felt heady with desire and the need to taste Castiel. 

Gently, teasingly, slowly, Dean mouthed over the growing damp spot in the fabric. Castiel squirmed and tried to push his hips forward but Dean’s strong grip on his hips kept him pinned against the door. The fabric tasted musky and salty and Dean needed more. He pulled down on the front of Castiel’s boxer briefs, pulling them just far enough for his hard cock to spring free and hang heavy between his legs. 

“Dean please,” Castiel gasped, doing his best to stay quiet since they were still pressed against the door. The thought that anyone could walk by and hear them only made Dean want to make the man above him lose control even more. 

With a flat tongue, Dean licked up the underside of Castiel’s cock. Castiel bit back a whine and two hands flew out to tangle in Dean’s hair. His hips rocked slightly forward as he sought out the heat of Dean’s mouth. “I got you sweetheart,” Dean purred before his tongue darted out to taste the precome that glistened at the tip. 

Without warning, Dean wrapped his mouth around Castiel’s cock and slowly swallowed him down until his nose was buried in dark, wiry hairs. Castiel groaned, a little louder this time, and his fingers tightened in Dean’s hair. Dean slowly drew back and began to bob his head while his hand stroked what wouldn’t fit in his mouth. The slick sounds were loud and filthy in the quiet room, occasionally broken up by the soft noises that Castiel made.

Each gasp and groan was like a punch to the gut and Dean had to release his hold on Castiel’s hip to palm himself through his jeans. With newfound freedom, Castiel pushed his hips forward, driving his cock into Dean’s mouth until it hit the back of his throat. Dean swallowed around it, doing his best not to gag as Castiel cried out. “Dean! Fuck, Dean, stop!”

Dean immediately pulled back and looked up at Castiel who was watching him with hooded eyes. “What’s wrong?” Dean asked, his voice raspy where his throat had been fucked raw. 

Castiel traced his thumb over Dean’s spit slick lips, his mouth going slack as Dean’s tongue darted over the tip. “I want you to fuck me Dean.”

Dean swallowed hard, his ears ringing and his knees creaking when he jolted up to standing. “Are you sure?”

Leaning in for a quick but fierce kiss, Castiel looked Dean square in the eye and nodded. “I need you inside of me.”

With his cock getting impossibly harder, Dean moaned and leaned in for another kiss. “Yes, definitely yes.” He kissed him again before pulling back. “Wait, we need stuff for that, I didn’t bring anything.”

“Inside compartment of my suitcase,” Castiel replied with a devious smirk. 

“You were totally planning this,” Dean accused. 

“I found the list of chaperones last week and saw your name.”

Dean looked down at the open suitcase. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I honestly forgot to mention it and then this morning you were so excited about your surprise that I went along with it.” Castiel raised a brow. “Are you complaining?”

Dean took a step back and pulled his henley off in one quick motion. “Fuck no. I’ll grab it, you lose the clothes and get on the bed.”

As he dug through Castiel’s suitcase, the heat in his gut flared. He’d been daydreaming about this for weeks but had been hesitant about being the first to bring it up. Sure enough, Dean found a few condoms and a small tube of lube tucked away in a small side pocket of Castiel’s luggage. Just knowing that Castiel had been planning this made him a little weak in the knees. 

Once he stood, Dean fumbled for his own belt buckle as he turned towards the bed. All the air in his lungs punched out of him in a strangled curse. Castiel was laying back on the pristine sheets of the bed, stretched out languorously like the six foot sex god he was. One hand trailed his chest while the other was wrapped loosely around his cock which still glistened in the low light from Dean’s spit. With one knee up and his other leg cocked to the side, Dean had the perfect vantage point for what was definitely the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Are you going to stare all night or get over here?” Castiel teased. 

That spurred Dean into motion and, after dropping the condom and lube on the bed, he made quick work of his jeans and boxer briefs. “Holy shit, do you even know how sexy you are?” He asked as he knelt on the bed. 

Castiel moaned softly in reply as he rubbed his thumb over the slit of his cock. Dean whimpered and shuffled forward until he was kneeling in between Castiel’s legs. His own cock was throbbing in between his legs and Dean gave himself a few quick jerks to take the edge off. As delicious as Castiel looked as he bit his lip and let his eyes slip shut, Dean’s eyes were drawn down to Castiel’s cock and what he knew lay behind. 

He let his fingers trace over the crease of Castiel’s groin, rolling softly over his balls before dipping to tease his hole. Castiel took in a sharp breath at the first tentative touches and the sound spurred Dean forward. He had just opened the lube when a thought occurred to him. “Shit, I didn’t grab a towel. Let me just-.”

Castiel’s hand flew out and grabbed his wrist tightly. “Dean Winchester if you move from this bed I will come without you and leave you to your own devices,” he growled. 

Dean’s eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard. That should not have been so hot. “Noted,” he replied and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s raised knee. 

He poured a puddle of lube into his hand, letting his fingers dance across Castiel’s opening, up to his cock, and back as it warmed. Dipping his index finger into the slick, Dean smeared it across his hole before sliding in to the second knuckle. Castiel gasped and clenched around him and goddamn he was so hot and tight. Dean did his best to stay slow and steady as he prepared Castiel, but it was hard when Castiel’s hips kept thrusting back to meet him in eager thrusts.

Once he was up to the third finger, Castiel’s hand flew out to grip Dean’s shoulder. “Dean, now,” he groaned.

Dean nodded, his heart racing as he tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth before rolling it on. Just the small pressure on his neglected cock sent a shiver up his spine. He used the remaining lube to slick his cock before lining himself up with Castiel’s entrance. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Dean asked, suddenly anxious.

Castiel’s eyes were soft and fond when he gazed down at the man between his legs. “I’m more than sure Dean,” he said softly.

Taking a deep breath, Dean pushed forward until he felt the tip of his cock breach Castiel’s opening. After a little bit of resistance, Castiel opened easily under him and Dean slid the rest of the way in one smooth slide. Castiel let out a small whine as Dean bottomed out and leaned forward to rest his hands on either side of Castiel’s shoulders. 

“God Cas,” he groaned before letting his head fall to rest on Castiel’s chest. He pressed soft kisses to the skin in front of him and let his teeth graze over his nipple. “You feel so incredible.”

“Move,” Castiel grunted, rocking his hips a little to take Dean even further. 

Not one to ignore a direct request, Dean pulled out almost all the way before slowly pushing back inside. If he thought Castiel felt tight around his fingers, that was nothing to the way that those hot walls felt squeezing around his cock. Dean had often imagined this moment, but he’d had no idea just how good it would feel. 

“I won’t break,” Castiel growled as he hooked a leg around Dean’s hips and dug his heel into Dean’s lower back. 

“Bossy,” Dean replied before taking Castiel’s earlobe between his teeth as he snapped his hips forward, pushing a gasp out of Castiel. 

Castiel rocked his hips up to meet every thrust as Dean snapped his hips hard and fast. The sound of his hips slapping against Castiel’s ass and inner thighs was drowned out by the nearly constant stream of groans and praise that fell from Castiel’s lips. “So good Dean, fuck, just like that.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to stave off his own orgasm. He was close to the edge but he wanted Castiel to come first. He wanted to feel Castiel come from his cock. “Touch yourself,” Dean grunted, before capturing Castiel’s lips in a kiss.

Castiel snaked an arm between them and began to frantically jack his leaking cock. Within seconds he was crying out against Dean’s lips as he spilled over his hand. Dean let his teeth drag over Castiel’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth as he whimpered. Castiel clenched around him, getting impossibly tighter, as he rode out his orgasm. 

Only a few thrusts behind, Dean bottomed out and came with a loud cry of ‘ _Cas!_ ’. His vision blacked out momentarily as waves of pleasure rolled through him. Giving a few final, shallow thrusts, Dean rode out his own orgasm before his hips stalled. Sucking in deep breaths, Dean slowly pulled out and rolled to the side. 

“You’re incredible Cas,” he murmured as he turned to look at the other man. 

Castiel turned onto his side until he was facing Dean. He cupped Dean’s face and pulled him in for a soft kiss. “I love you,” he whispered, his eyes closed and his lips brushing against Dean’s as he spoke. 

Dean felt a wave of emotion build in his chest but the words stayed stuck in his throat. “Yeah Cas,” he softly replied, hoping Castiel knew what he meant. “Yeah.”

With a happy hum, Castiel pushed Dean onto his back before pillowing his head on Dean’s chest. Dean grinned as he wrapped his arms tightly around the other man. “Shouldn’t we go clean up?”

“We are never moving again,” Castiel grumbled, turning his head into Dean’s chest. 

Dean chuckled as he slowly pushed himself up into a seated position. Castiel moaned in dismay at his movement, only making Dean laugh harder. “Hold on sweetheart. I want to grab a towel to clean us both up and then we don’t have to move again.”

Castiel let out an unhappy ‘mmph’ but rolled away so that Dean could slide off the bed. Dean padded to the bathroom and disposed of the used condom in the trashcan before washing his hands. He couldn’t help but smile at his reflection in the mirror. Sure they still had some things to work out, but in that moment, Dean felt happier than he could remember being in the last few years. 

He quickly wet a hand towel and gave himself a cursory wipe before making his way back out to the bedroom. With hair sticking up in every direction and an array of hickies across his collarbone, Castiel looked well and truly fucked and Dean loved knowing that he was the one who did that to him. 

“Here you go Cas,” Dean said, kneeling on the edge of the bed. Castiel turned towards him and looked up at him with a soft gaze as Dean gently wiped the mess from his stomach and in between his legs. 

Dropping the towel on the floor, Dean laid back and pulled his boyfriend back in. “Do you have to leave?”

Dean shook his head before dropping a kiss to those messy locks. “Not yet, what time are the kids getting up again?”

“9 o’clock,” Castiel mumbled, his face tucked against Dean’s shoulder. 

“Okay, I’ll set the alarm for six which gives us plenty of time to shower and for me to sneak back to my room.”

Suddenly Castiel burst into a fit of giggles, his shoulders shaking under Dean’s arm. Dean looked at him like he’d gone mad. “What’s so funny?”

“We are doing exactly what the children are prohibited from doing,” Castiel gasped around his laughter. “We are officially the worst role models.”

Dean grinned. “Someone should’ve taped your door.”

The laughter faded into a comfortable silence. It was nice to have Castiel in his arms and his chest felt full. He knew he loved Castiel, now he just needed to figure out how to say it. 

“Good night Dean,” Castiel mumbled, his lips brushing against Dean’s bare chest. 

“Night Cas.”

Castiel’s breathing quickly evened out as he fell asleep. Dean tightened his arms to hold the other man as he just enjoyed the moment. Before long his own eyes grew heavy and he fell into a deep sleep of his own. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never went on cool field trips like this as a teenager so I'm winging it as to how chaperones work. Feel free to let me know if I've got it wrong! I promise to get the next chapter up as soon as possible!!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Updates will be every Friday. Kudos and Comments are always lovely and appreciated.


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